


Sidewalk Cracks

by MinHart



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Child Neglect, Depression, F/M, Healing, Hearing Voices, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Non-con incest, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 05:50:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 164,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6040639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinHart/pseuds/MinHart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sinners make lonely company when Sehun is away, and Luhan finds no friend in his thoughts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Boy That God Forgot

**Author's Note:**

> Originally for Selubration 2015.  
> Thank you to C for handling all my bullshit during the 3 months I spent writing this. =)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to love when you don't deserve it.

to keep sidewalk cracks

_To keep face_  
I made lies disguised as lace  
And that's the best I can do  
From the fountain of love I drew. 

_To keep pain_  
I did away with pills that kept me sane.  
From anything that kept me ill  
To the voices intended to kill. 

_To keep flowers_  
I stayed up after the hours  
To never water and see  
The dead petals meant to be. 

_To keep the days_  
I conjured up many ways  
To show that I love you  
For the tragedy's overdue. 

_To keep my nights_  
I told you of heights  
That frightens and scar  
The tiny heart of a dark star. 

_To keep you_  
I called you a monster though I knew.  
That we can stay in this love  
But there's nothing I can think of. 

_But you kept me_  
Not once have you tried to flee  
From the little dark star  
That's fallen too far. 

_To keep you_  
I'll try to keep the love anew  
I'll take rid of my face  
Leave not a single trace  
From the fountain of love I drew  
But that, you already knew. 

❀❀❀

Somewhere between the cambria fonts on the paper, the faded photograph of a boy that masquerades as a man—there is a child that _survived_.

❀❀❀

"Luhan, that frown is going to be permanent if you keep it up," Hyunjae pulls at his arm, but to no avail; he did not move. "Come on, let's find another place."

Seoul smells of cigarettes and car exhausts, and he can't do anything but inhale it. Late September is of cancer sticks and leaves, a shaky reminder of soon-to-be grayed snow in the streets, giving him a legitimate reason as to why he trips on the sidewalks.

"I don't get coffee from anywhere else." Luhan's frown deepens. It was a small, off the radar coffee shop, but nonetheless, it was good coffee. It was good because the owner, a gentle old woman, kenned precisely what his coffee was like. The shop was a quiet setting for him on slow mornings, even on the days Hyunjae came with him, her nose in her phone more than in her coffee.

Luhan's aware of the owner taking a vacation for a while, and with no one else running the shop, it was closed until she comes back. Scratching the back of his head, where his scarf was tickling him, he looks at Hyunjae, who looks at him with a hint of impatience. "Didn't she tell you? Then why are we here then?" Hyunjae huffs out a vexed puff of air, staring back at the dark and empty coffee shop.

"I thought I could get one more cup of coffee, but it seems she left early." Luhan sighs, shutting his eyes to feel the weight of sleep and the chilled air. He needed that coffee; it was another night that was too long.

"There's another cafe over there, they should sell coffee―"

"No, I can't be bothered with those." Luhan cuts her off, his eyes narrowing into slits. He's incredibly biased towards this coffee shop because it made his coffee. Hyunjae shut her eyes for a little bit and looked at him through tired eyes. It was that look that Luhan was very familiar with, the look she gave him when he was too much.

_ But he wasn't too much. _

_ He was enough. _

_ Lie LIE LIE _

"Joonmyun told me about this bubble tea shop that opened recently. It's not coffee, but it's something to drink." Hyunjae nudges him, her elbow slightly brushing against Luhan's sweater. It's awfully close to his sides; where he's more sensitive. He jumps a little bit, but not noticeably enough for her to say anything.

Luhan wrinkles his nose in the thought of bubble tea on a chilly day. "Bubble tea's for kids," Luhan hesitates, "kids like Tao."

His organized thoughts trail back to the memory of Tao raiding the ice cream storage room in Jongdae's family owned diner three years ago.

Hyunjae laughs a cute laugh, and slips her arm through Luhan's, her dainty fingers painted a warm maroon, curling in the fabric of his sweater. "If Joonmyun found it, then he must be a kid, too." She looks up at him, offering a grin. "You're only 25; you don't have that right to call him a kid." Luhan scoffs, but his mind wanders off to the thought of her soft laugh―how the world mocked him for surrounding himself with pretty things. Pretty, oh so pretty things that seemed so repetitive.

_ Just a pretty face. _

_ You're so pretty, pretty boy. _

"Joonmyun's hair is graying, don't group him with me," he retorts and lets his girlfriend drag him off to the shop, reminding him of how he's older than Joonmyun.

➳➳➳

Luhan didn't know what to expect from a bubble tea shop. He had assumed chairs, tables, menus. That wasn't too much to assume out of a normal cafe.

Luhan shoots Hyunjae a look of bewilderment, and she beams up at him. It is _unbearably_ warm in the shop, the scarf around him that he took refuge in earlier seems like a torture contrivance as he tugs at it until the clothing unravels and falls into his hands. "Let's go get a seat and then order," Hyunjae pulls at him and surprisingly looking like she belongs here, whereas Luhan feels dead in his own skin, burning up with his sweater.

"Seats? I see nothing but clumps of fabric on the floor." Luhan mutters, watching people sip their colorful drinks as they lounged on the lumpy seats, probably bean bags, he guesses. Hyunjae pulls the both of them to the back of the shop, where it was empty, except say for the old man sitting with his back facing everyone else, having that ugly, bulky sweater as the face of— "Joonmyun?" At the sound of his name, the man perks up and turns around, searching for the face of the voice. His face fell into a subtle smile.

"Hyung! The happy couple." Joonmyun motions the two of them to take a seat at the several empty bean bags next to him.

_ Oh, happy couple. _

_ What a pretty couple. _

"Oppa, I finally got Luhan to come." She snuck in a smile before adding, "it was easy, especially with him throwing a fit about his coffee."

Luhan shoots a sideways glare at Hyunjae as Joonmyun laughs. "It was not a tantrum. It was a mild disappointment!" Luhan splutters, trying to maintain his calm. "And don't call Joonmyun oppa, ahjusshi is much more realistic."

"You brat, you're older than me."

Luhan dismisses him, before looking pointedly at the drink in Joonmyun's hand. "What are those marbles?" Luhan was already dissatisfied, with the too warm for comfort temperature, and the bags of trash they called bean bags. Hyunjae notices his discomfort.

"You still look cute."

"I don't want to hear _that_ from you."

Joonmyun shakes the drink in his hand, trying to get a bit of those marble into his straw. "Gangnam born and raised Luhan," Joonmyun leans in, his eyes a perfect crescent as he smiles. "I can't tell if Tao's the bratty one or you are."

Luhan shoots daggers at him with his eyes. At least, that's what was he was going for, anyways. Kicking at him aimlessly. "I'm from China, Joonmyun," he clarifies. "Watch it, I'm _your_ hyung."

"And you call me gramps."

Hyunjae smiles warmly. "Joonmyun is right, if people didn't know you were from Beijing, they'd think you were fresh out of Gangnam."

They talk for a few more minutes until Luhan's throat itches for something to hydrate himself. "I'm going to order something to quench my thirst." He looks over at Hyunjae.

"Surprise me." Luhan nods and heaves himself off the beanbag. He looks back at Hyunjae, whose eyes are on Joonmyun, full of fondness and comfort. He had seen that look before, attached to a pair of brown eyes in high school. A pair of eyes that didn't belong to Hyunjae. The fondness and comfort that never seemed to be attached to her eyes, whenever she looked at him.

_ You're such a pretty boy, Luhan. _

_ A pretty face with nothing else. _

It is a mutual thing between Luhan and her, as he could never see her with those eyes, either.

Maybe that's why he's sad.

Luhan approaches the counter, eyebrows furrowed, trying to scan all the unfamiliar tea names on the menu at once. There were various drinks, from green tea milk to chocolate. He suddenly feels small.

_ So successful, Luhan. _

_ Rich and pretty. _

"First time drinking bubble tea?"

Luhan quickly falls out of the misery that was ordering drinks and finds himself looking at a worker, who looks back with questioning, sharp eyes. It only takes a few seconds for Luhan to compose himself of that aura he kept up around strangers. "O-oh, yeah." He still feels startled, as he never took a liking to surprises. The worker brushes away a strand of dark hair, before offering Luhan a smile. Luhan offers a weak one back, before taking a glance at the name-tag. _Oh Sehun_ . The employee drops his smile, to push a menu towards Luhan.

"I suggest the mango milk with yogurt flavored popping boba or chai milk." Sehun says, tapping at a picture of a drink mindlessly. "Or chocolate. Can't go wrong with chocolate."

I disagree, Luhan wanted to say but raised from a family whose primary value was to wear a mask soaked in manners—aside from friends. He holds his tongue. "I'll get a mango for me, and chai for my friend." Luhan murmurs, taking out two new 5000 won bills out of his wallet.

Sehun plucks the two bills out of Luhan's hand, and Luhan ignores the subtle feeling of Sehun's cold fingers against Luhan's hot ones. After punching in the numbers into the cash register, the tall boy hands back Luhan's change with a smile. Luhan mutters _a thanks_ before dropping his change into the plastic jar labeled, 'TIPS :)'.

It takes a few minutes before Sehun comes back with two cups of bubble tea, one for him and one for Hyunjae. He grabs two straws before heading back to Joonmyun and Hyunjae.

And it isn't as if Luhan didn't see the way Joonmyun averted his glance away from Hyunjae as Luhan approaches them, and the way she fiddled with Luhan's scarf quietly.

He supposes a small bit of him feels hurt, he bit that his mother molded.

But he isn't disappointed.

_ Disappointed in yourself. _

_ Mother raised you better than that. _

"I got you chai bubble tea." Luhan feigns ignorance. "Whether you like it or not, just keep in mind you tortured me by making me talk to people." Joonmyun punches him lightly on the shoulder, to which Luhan elbows him. He presses the cold drink towards Hyunjae, not letting go until her dainty, fair hands had a firm hold on it.

Hyunjae smiles. "Thanks, oppa."

Luhan wishes Joonmyun's eyes would stop looking at him. He wishes it was cold enough inside for him to take his scarf out of Hyunjae's hands and drown himself in soft cashmere. Instead, Luhan presses the colorful straw against his lips, taking in his drink. It isn't until he pulls away that he notices wet ink on his fingers, and raises his cup, examining it. To his surprise albeit not a big one, it was a note in messy writing, only a little bit of the words were smudged.

**I saw that look in your eye when I suggested chocolate tea, don't knock it 'til you try it ㅋㅋㅋㅋ**

Luhan looks up from his drink, to see the Sehun kid who scrawled all over his drink. He's gone, his back facing him, mixing drinks and humming to a song that Luhan doesn't recognize.

➳➳➳

Luhan feels cheated in his life.

Cheated, in the sense of all aspects. Be it college, appearances, or anything, he feels cheated. Squinting at himself in the mirror, he feels an unsettling feeling fall flat on his chest; an all too familiar feeling, too.

_ So pretty, Luhan. You're such a beautiful boy, so pretty. _

It had been years since his face stopped morphing through puberty, and maybe puberty thought it would be hilarious to leave him with a cute face that has gotten him mistaken for a girl too many times whenever he was in Jongo District with Baekhyun.

"You two are such a lovely couple," an older woman had beamed, and held up two necklaces to show the two. "Young boy, gift this to your pretty girlfriend." The old woman had looked at Luhan as she said, pretty girlfriend. Luhan flushed and trying to sputter a protest before Baekhyun wrapped his arm around Luhan.

"Thank you, ahjumma, but my girlfriend here already has a gift." Baekhyun batted his eyes vibrantly. "Tonight." And to that, Luhan had kneed Baekhyun in the place that didn't shine and stepped on his Air Jordan.

"You're twenty-five Luhan," he whispers to himself in the mirror. "But you look like a preteen girl."

It was self-motivation on such fine days that pushes Luhan through the mundane hours.

➳➳➳

Luhan feels the glances and not so subtle stares on him as he stands in front of the elevator of VERILLI. He turns around, only to see three women turning their heads away, a blush blossoming on their cheeks as they muffled their giggles. Luhan offers a smile, before stepping into the elevator.

_ So beautiful Luhan, those women love you. _

_ Everyone loves you. _

Right as Luhan presses the UP button on the elevator, squeezing his eyes shut to relieve some of the nervousness. _You won't fall. You won't fall._ His phone vibrates in his pocket.

7:01 AM

Taobear: luhan-gege, theres a new kid in town! =D

Luhan: Seoul isn't a town, Tao

Taobear: ok fine, theres a new kid in the city

Luhan: I'm sure there's plenty of new people in Seoul everyday

Taobear: stop being an asswipe gege, there's a new student in my class and he needs friends, gege can he come with us on saturday

Luhan: To the bar?

Taobear: yes

Luhan: Is it...legal?

Taobear: hes my age

Luhan: I repeat my question

Taobear: im 21 gege!

Luhan: Physically

At this point, Tao has stopped texting Luhan. Luhan chuckles before stepping out of the elevator, with his gelled back hair _that screams professional,_ according to Baekhyun and a suit that Hyunjae that decided fitted all of Luhan.

"Good morning, Mr. Lu." The receptionist stands up and does a slight bow, to which Luhan flashes a charismatic smile to. As he made a beeline to his office, he texts Tao.

7:05 AM.

Luhan: Yeah sure, bring him. We could use more people now that Kyuhyun-hyung barely hangs around now, the old buzzer

Taobear: thx gege =D =D

Luhan barely writes _no problem_ before two arms crush Luhan into a bone-crushing hug. Luhan gasps for breath as he starts elbowing the attacker.

"Ow, ow, ow!" The attacker lets go, pain evident in his voice. Luhan turns around, his eyes burning holes in Chanyeol's forehead.

"You little—,” piece of Luhan breaks out in Chinese Mandarin when he's angry, and this time, it comes with a long string of swears that would get him in trouble with the maids back home.

_ Your mother wasn't around enough to scold you. _

_ Mother doesn't know. _

"Hey, hyung! Hyung!" Chanyeol put his arms up in defense, a grin breaking out on his face instantly. _I wish acne broke out on his face as fast as he smiles,_ Luhan thought murderously. "I missed _youuuuuu._ " He draws out the last word as he drapes his stiff limbs around Luhan.

"I was out for one day." Luhan deadpans.

"That was one day of pain I had to endure," Chanyeol bats his eyes innocently, but to Luhan it just looks as if his eyes had a spasm. "Plus, Kyungsoo was even scarier with you gone that day."

"Ah, what a shame you didn't get eaten." Luhan plucks Chanyeol's arms off him and brushes his suit with his palm. "If I look into a mirror and you messed up my hair, I'll sell your limbs to him." Chanyeol's eyes widen, his eyebrows shooting up into his platinum white hair that Baekhyun picked out for him, it surprisingly suits him and makes his way back to his desk, mouth shut.

"By the way, hyung," Chanyeol slips out a folder labeled 'EDIT REVISE' and tosses it to Luhan as he sat down at his desk next to him. It was Chanyeol's brilliant idea to share an office. "Changmin wants you to edit the December cover of VERILLI. He says it's missing something." His brows furrow together, as he looks over the cover with Luhan.

Luhan pinches the bridge of his nose before pushing the folder aside. "I'll check it later; Changmin can have it tomorrow." He pops a mint into his mouth. "Anything else?"

Chanyeol scratches the back of his head awkwardly before pulling out a bag, overloaded with ribbons and cards. "The ladies of VERILLI heard you were sick," Chanyeol trails off and hands him the bag. "When I was sick all I got was Kyungsoo's chicken broth, which was good but like, girls. You're so lucky."

Luhan looks blankly at the mass of cards written in lovely handwriting, with hearts scrawled all over his name.

_ So lucky. _

_ Luhan, such bless from a pretty face. _

Luhan suddenly feels sick, and pushes the bag of cards away from his line of sight, letting the cards scatter on the ground. Using his foot, he shoves the cards aside. Chanyeol blinks. "Hyung...?" His hands are under the table, twitching and itching to scratch a mark into flesh. 

"Tao's bringing a friend on Saturday, some new kid from college he says." Luhan forces a smile as he collects his paper. "Must be nice, finally someone his age."

"Taemin's his age." Chanyeol points out, marking out dates on his calendar; the one Jongdae got for him, with pictures of puppies and cats. "Granted he's with Jongin all the time, I sometimes wonder if the two are infatuated with each other."

"They aren't infatuated with each other." A new voice says, making both Luhan and Chanyeol jump. Kyungsoo, with his shortness galore, makes up for his height with soulless eyes and dark voice. "Dance partners."

"I don't know, I saw Taemin going with Jongin for midnight Tteokbokki in Hongdae—fuck Kyungsoo!" Chanyeol couldn't finish his sentence before Kyungsoo chucked an open pen at Chanyeol. Kyungsoo turns his lifeless eyes towards Luhan, who avoided eye contact before clearing his throat.

"What's up, Kyungsoo?" Luhan bares a full-teeth smile. Kyungsoo is someone who doesn't talk much, and that's a nice change from someone like Chanyeol. He'd known him since high school, all the way until now. 

"I moved."

"Really? Where?" Luhan asks, startled by the news. No one mentioned that Kyungsoo was moving.

"Down the street from yours," Kyungsoo shrugs. "I need a new apartment. Can you guys stop by in the afternoon to help me move boxes?"

Luhan gives a quick nod, whereas Chanyeol narrows his eyes. "What makes you think I'd help you after you—“clink. Kyungsoo pulls out another pen, and this time, a fountain pen. _"Yes, yes, yes_ I'll help."

➳➳➳ 

Luhan offers Chanyeol a ride to Kyungsoo's new place. As they drove by, accompanied by the pitter patter of the rain, they pass by the coffee shop, to which the owner hasn't returned yet. Luhan sighs, wondering about how many more mornings he'd have to endure with sub-par coffee from home. It wasn't even a few minutes before they pass by the new bubble tea shop, _Yehet's Tea._ Luhan frowns. It was an odd shop name, but then again, it was a weird place, with even weirder employees who drinks chocolate bubble tea.

It turns out that Kyungsoo now lives in walking distance of Luhan, about five minutes. Luhan can finally stop ordering take out from Jongdae's restaurant and just crash at Kyungsoo's dinner that man can cook. And it isn't as if Luhan hated Jongdae's restaurant, but it was that he probably ate everything on the menu six times already.

Luhan slips off his shoes quickly, already knowing Kyungsoo's cleanliness since high school. Chanyeol, on the other hand, didn't, only knowing Luhan and Kyungsoo since business school. Luhan parts his lips to tell Chanyeol, but before he could Kyungsoo came storming in.

 _Five...four...three..._ Luhan starts counting down the seconds before Kyungsoo castrates poor, naive Chanyeol.

"Take your clown shoes off before I maim you for life." He threatens, and Chanyeol's face goes pale, knowing full well that when Kyungsoo says it, he means it. After Kyungsoo was satisfied, he goes back to his bedroom to change.

"Why does he hate me so much?" Chanyeol mumbles, as he peels off his suit. "I'm cute. I'm ridiculously cute. I'm bordering on puppy adorableness."

_ Cute. _

_ He's not as cute as you, Luhan. _

_ You're just a cute face, nothing under. _

"He doesn't hate you," Luhan reassures the giant, patting him awkwardly on the arm because he was taller than him. "He tortures Baekhyun even more." And for a moment, Chanyeol looks a little bit relieved. Luhan was about to say something about how Kyungsoo threw a spoon at Baekhyun over dinner once before his phone rings.

Fumbling with his phone in his pocket, he pulls it out. _Hyunjae._

"Hello?"

"Luhan?" It's Hyunjae, and she breathes out his name gently. "What are you doing?"

"I'm with Chanyeol and Kyungsoo," he pauses, staring at Chanyeol as he stares in awe at Kyungsoo's kitten action figures. "I'm helping him move stuff."

Hyunjae makes a noise of understanding. "About Saturday, I can't go."

Silence. Luhan expected it. "Why?" He hopes it didn't sound too forward; one of the minor traits of him.

"I have to go to my brother's house. His sister has news for the family." She pauses. "I think she's pregnant. I'll be an aunt."

Luhan smiles, even if she couldn't see it. "Beautiful. Congratulations to your brother and sister-in-law. Do you want me to come?" He knew the answer. But he asked to be polite.

"It's a family thing I think, but thanks, Luhan."

_ Luhan, such a polite boy. _

_ So pretty, so polite. _

"Of course."

"I love you, Luhan." Hyunjae says it quietly. Luhan can hear it in her voice.

"I love you, too." _Not, like that._ "Drive safely."

"Your relationship with noona is so cute." Chanyeol holds up a fat cat action figure. "Almost as cute this little guy. Hey, does she get jealous of those girls fawning over you at work?"

"She understands." Luhan looks over at Chanyeol. "She's not your noona; she's younger."

_ She understands how pretty you are. _

_ That's all you'll ever be. _

_ NOTHING. _

Kyungsoo comes out in sweatpants that were too long for his short stature, and Chanyeol had to sniffle a laugh. "Luhan, could you help put the dishes in the kitchen? Chanyeol, I swear to all that this holy don't touch the kitchen, you'll break everything." He points to the kitten action figure in his hand. "And put Captain Fur down."

Chanyeol ends up pushing couches and chairs into place, thanks to his better strength and longer limbs. Kyungsoo takes care of his bedroom and the decorations, and Luhan took care of everything in the kitchen, including the groceries that Kyungsoo bought after work.

There was really only one box left, and it was a bunch of books Kyungsoo said to put on his shelf. Chanyeol left Luhan alone to do that, as he tries to steal a bite of the dinner Kyungsoo was cooking. It's already late and Kyungsoo has the heart to cook a delicious, _sogooditsillegal_ dinner in exchange for the help. 

Luhan always wonders why Kyungsoo never went to culinary with Jongdae back when they were looking at colleges together. Kyungsoo had shrugged when he asked him, saying cooking was a hobby that he didn't want to turn into a career. 

The box was light as Luhan set it on the edge of Kyungsoo's bed, pulling out books to stack on his shelf. He doesn't have to worry about organization, Kyungsoo could handle that. He starts stacking books such as The Aquariums of Pyongyang, The Memoirs of Lady Hyegyong, and their... _high school yearbook?_

Amusement lights up in Luhan's eyes as he pulls it out, examining the perfect condition it was in. Luhan had lost his somewhere around sophomore year in college. He flips through the pages easily, say for the tricky parts where he has to wet his index finger beforehand. His eyes catch some photos of him and Kyungsoo. They looked nearly the same. There was also him and Jongdae, and Yixing in some of the pictures, and the past few years had done Yixing much good, as his features got more defined over the years as Luhan notice, and got rid of that awful haircut he had.

The pages stopped with all the photographs of each other and went into the school portraits. He sees some faces that look familiar, then he saw Kyungsoo's and Kris' and—

Suddenly, the wind in Luhan is knocked out, his hands shaky and his knees locked in place. He allows his shaking fingers to brush against the photo of the all-too-familiar face, a face that he had touched and memorized, before dropping the book, the hardcover clattering against the floor like a final death sentence.

"Lulu!" Chanyeol shouts, a happiness dancing on his voice, "Kyungsoo made some awfully good dinner! Come before I eat it all!" Followed by a smack and an _ow!_

The sound of his friends bickering brought him back to reality, nearly focused. "Yeah, I'm coming!" Luhan pushes the yearbook into the box; Kyungsoo can sort out the rest of his books after dinner.

It was then maybe, Luhan didn't lose his yearbook in sophomore college. He threw it away.

_ Threw it away with your heart, little Luhan. _

_ Such a pretty boy. _

"Doenjang jjigae," Kyungsoo says with a small smile, "I had everything I needed for it. 된장찌개," he said again.

Luhan flashes a perky grin, however, not as lively as Chanyeol as he adjusts his lengthy arms to the table, chopstick in hand, prodding at the kimchi and steaming rice. "Heads up, Kyungsoo, I'm crashing your dinner a lot more often now that you live nearby." Kyungsoo snorts, but didn't protest.

"No fair, hey, let me move here too, or better yet let me move in—stop hitting me!" Chanyeol winces, rubbing furiously at his shin. "I was joking, I was just kidding! My sister cooks well, too!"

Luhan laughs wholeheartedly, laying a piece of kimchi over his rice.

➳➳➳

There's a single scream at night, Luhan biting down on blankets and digging marks into his thighs.

_ I'll ruin you. _

_ You'll never love again _

He feels 12 again, scarred and beautiful.

➳➳➳

Hyunjae was sleeping in, so Luhan goes alone. Usually, whenever Hyunjae slept in, he'd take more leisure walking and drinking his coffee more slowly. But this time, he has nowhere to go, and his leisure walking wouldn't end without a destination. He stood in front of the shop, Yehet's Tea. "Weird ass name with weirder furniture," Luhan mutters before looking down at himself. He didn't stand out much like last time, only in a simple long-sleeve and jeans that hugged his thighs too tightly.

The door opens with the ring of the bell. No one else was there, and inner Luhan screams and cringes, while outer Luhan was standing there without a purpose.

"Good morning welcome to Yehet's Tea." The employee looks up from wiping the counter. "Oh, chocolate-hater!" The employee, Sehun waved.

Luhan, taken back, says nothing. He has only seen this employee once, and the ink on Luhan's hand after the note took a lengthy amount of time and soap. But yet, Sehun greeted him so quickly, even without knowing his name.

"I don't hate chocolate." Luhan defends himself. "I just don't like drinking chocolate," he mutters, fiddling with the edge of his sleeves.

"That's sadness." Sehun says bluntly, before going behind the counter. "I never get people here so early, I mostly do nothing at the shop in the morning because it's so empty, and my classes are in the afternoon." He pauses. "Sorry, I ramble." Sehun was still smiling and didn't look the least bit sorry.

"Ah, you're a student?" Luhan feels more relaxed. He never did like being alone with someone who was a stranger to him. But here, with Sehun―it doesn't seem strange to Luhan, not at all.

Sehun shrugs and the apron on his shoulder slips off. "Yeah, good school and stuff. The job here is excellent, too." Sehun grins again, before sliding a menu towards Luhan. "Anything today, Chocolate-hater?"

The corners of Luhan's lips tugs in nearly a smile. "Surprise me, no chocolate, though." He flops down on the uncomfortable beanbags, tapping against the floor to the rhythm of the soft music playing in the shop. It seems to be a habit of his nowadays; tapping to trot and the electric rhythm of most songs. Back home, he couldn't tap his dainty fingers to Beethoven or Bach.

Sehun smirks, and wipes his hands on a towel. "Chocolate is the elixir of life." Sehun doesn't talk much while making the drink, which took a few minutes before Sehun walks over to Luhan and crouch down.

Luhan smiles, and pulls out crumpled 5000 wons, but Sehun shook his head, his eyes steady on Luhan's. "It does not cost money, but it will cost you your name."

Luhan frowns. "My name?"

"You know mine," Sehun nudges at his name tag. "If you're going to be a regular, at least, let me know you," Sehun says, as if it was the most obvious thing and that Luhan was incredibly stupid not to know.

"Luhan, it's Luhan." Luhan says, but still holding the money in his hand. "Who says I'm going to be a regular?" He attempts to joke, but it came off too seriously, he thinks. Sehun didn't say anything.

"Luhan-ssi, you already paid for it with your name." He says cheekily before pushing the money away, ignoring his comment, to go back to the counter. Luhan bit back the urge to call him a brat, like Joonmyun, calls Tao.

"Thanks," Luhan takes a sip. "Whoa, what is this? It's really good, really, really." Luhan pressed the straw against his lip, not letting go until he was satisfied. Sehun chuckled as he fixes the god awful hat on his head. But it seems to suit him, with his face and all. Luhan bet his left arm that if Jongdae wore it, it would slip over his tiny ass head.

"Sehun's Special, Loving Bubble Tea." Sehun reveals triumphantly but then pauses. "I need a better, cooler name, but yeah. That's the gist." Luhan snorts and goes back to drinking the tea, leaving his taste buds confused with the fruity but muted taste. "When I get the name, I'll be sure to tell you." Sehun looked deep in thought, his lips shaping words that Luhan suppose are possible names.

Luhan nods, and stands up to leave, but not before dropping a 5000 won into the 'TIP' jar. Sehun narrows his eyes at him. "Sneaky, aren't you, Luhan-ssi?"

Luhan laughs, and waves goodbye. "And Sehun?"

"Yeah?"

"Call me hyung." Luhan murmurs. "Next time I stop by."

➳➳➳

His father was vulpine, harsh words that seem little against his face. He could hurl every word, soaked in misery and cruelty, but all of it seems very small when spoken of his status. But those words didn't seem so small to Luhan because Luhan wasn't free from his parents grasps.

And out of all the reasons why Luhan left for Korea to live with his aunt, knowing full well the language barriers―it was to leave everything.

But somehow, nothing left him. It shadowed him from his high school years to him in his mid-twenties.

It was those days, where mentions of his family made him ill, especially with the email from his father. It was those days, where Luhan called Hyunjae because she was safe.

11:21 AM.

Luhan: I want to see you.

Hyunjae: Do you want me to come to the office?

Luhan: Please

Hyunjae: I'll bring lunch from Jongdae's

It was those days, where Luhan really feels like he can love Hyunjae. That maybe it was _right_ to love her.

_ But no one can love you. _

_ Untouchable, pretty Luhan. _

_ I can be loved. _

He shrugs into his suit coat after leaving the stall, feeling much better. Leaving the restroom with a clean face, he slumps back into his seat, greeted by a concentrated Chanyeol. This was a rare sight, a sight that Luhan wouldn't dare to interrupt. Instead, he stares back at the face of black coffee, wistfully wishing it was bubble tea.

➳➳➳

"I'll tell my mom that you said hi," Hyunjae says, wrapping a thin scarf around her neck. It wasn't cold. "You should visit soon, my mother loves you, and my brother finds your interest in football appealing."

_ They love you. _

_ Do they? _

"Tell your brother we should go for a match soon." Luhan says as he tightens the scarf around Hyunjae, making sure she was warm. "I hope you get there safely."

"Thanks, Luhan."

Luhan waits until Hyunjae drove off, and waits until her car disappear into a tiny speck among others. He looks at his watch and head back to his car.

After high school and college, Luhan and his friends all got different career paths. Kyungsoo, Chanyeol, and he worked at VERILLI, juggling editors, cute coworkers, and new magazines each month. Baekhyun was an artist, drawing for ads and satirical comics. Jongdae had taken over his family's restaurant after going to culinary school. His restaurant was a designated hangout for them back then and still was. Joonmyun was a writer for a newspaper, having some of his work featured in VERILLI as well. Tao and Jongin were mutual friends of Kris and Yixing, who quickly developed to be good friends with everyone.

It wasn't as hard as Luhan thought to keep track of everyone. They met up every week, whether it was fancy bars or Jongdae's crowded restaurant which wasn't so crowded late at night they always meet, bragging about Joonmyun's new writing featured in top magazines, and Kris' whining about Tao bugging him at his bookstore after class.

It was the rare moments in the week where Luhan never had to care about looking pretty, and the comfortable pants and V-neck spoke for him as he drove to Ho Bar.

_ But you're always pretty. _

_ Why are you so pretty, boy? _

The Ho Bar wasn't one of the best bars in Hongdae. But it was close to Hongik University, close enough that when Baekhyun was completely stressed over class, Luhan would hop over from Yonsei University and drink their care away and worried about intolerance of alcohol and hangovers the next morning.

Luhan is used to the dim red lighting that accompanied Ho Bar, as he made his way back to the bar, already catching sight of Kris' basketball hands waving around animatedly as he conversed with Yixing. Luhan slapped the back of Baekhyun, knocking off his snap back, and nearly spilling his drink. Startled, Baekhyun looks back at Luhan, his eyes narrowed. "Speak of the Devil," he mutters as he unsuccessfully wipes the table with a used napkin.

"Hyung," Yixing turns his attention away from Kris to wave at him. "I haven't seen you in two weeks!"

Luhan takes a seat next to Yixing and punched him playfully on the shoulder. "I'm still handsome and gracing VERILLI with my presence, you're the one that disappeared."

"I've been busy with Jongin and Taemin's dances, they have a recital coming up." Yixing looks proud, the light in his eyes brighten, as it always did when he talked about dance. "I also have a new student, he's coming here actually, with Tao."

Luhan raises an eyebrow slightly. "That college student? Tao said something about that a few days ago." He snatched Baekhyun's drink and took a sip, much to Baekhyun's protest. "Too bitter." Luhan wrinkles his nose.

"I drink from the tears of deadlines for comic strips." Baekhyun deadpans and continues to sip his bitter drink. Chanyeol chuckle and pats Baekhyun's back. "Heechul's been on my back about the new satirical comics for a magazine." It's obvious Baekhyun had just come back from drawing, his palms inked in faded colors, the tips of his nails stained with vibrant paint.

"Where's Hyunjae, hyung?" Luhan averts his attention from Baekhyun to face Joonmyun, who was all smiles, with no ugly sweater to accompany him. It's odd, Luhan was so used to Joonmyun wearing hideous sweaters that he looked almost naked in the eye with only a bare black tee.

"Family stuff," Luhan shrugs, leaning back in his seat. "Her brother has big news with his wife."

They were chattering to each other, with Chanyeol clinging onto Baekhyun, who continuously downed his bitter tears. It was a familiarity that Luhan was accustom to, with the absence of Kyungsoo however, who was too exhausted after work and decided to sleep early on Saturday. Jongin, who usually came in with Tao, came alone.

"Hey Jongin," Kris motions him towards the table. "Where's Tao and his friend?"

Jongin shook his head. "I came from the dance studio, I was picking up some dirty clothes from my locker. I think Tao and his friend are coming from Hongik." Jongin wastes no time sliding into an empty seat, swiping away Yixing's drink which was orange juice, the man couldn't hold his alcohol well, and he knows it and looks severely disappointed. "Hyung? Orange juice again?"

"You have a recital coming up, I don't want any alcohol in your system." Yixing scolds him and takes back the glass of orange juice.

True to his words, Tao did show up a few minutes after Jongin did, with a tall person shadowing him. "I'm here!" Tao shouts in a singsong voice, which fell to the norm in the loud bar. "I brought my friend from class."

Luhan looks up to see a tall, long man whose limbs were just as long as Chanyeol, but less awkward about them. "Sehun?"

Sehun recognizes him immediately, a smile that seems out of place on a face like his, but it wasn't weird. "Chocolate-hyung, small world."

Tao switches to Chinese like he did whenever he was with Luhan, Yixing, or Kris. "Luhan-gege, you know Sehunnie?"

Luhan nods, remembering the delicate taste of bubble tea to which Luhan can't place his finger on the taste. "Yeah." Tao perks up and pulls Sehun to the seats in between Luhan and Kris.

"Hyungs, this is my new dorm mate and lab partner, Oh Sehun!" Tao sounds like an excited ten-year-old, despite his mature face. Luhan couldn't help but smile as Tao pulls on a startled Sehun. Tao was like a puppy if you got passed his sharp features, he was a mixing pot of fluff and clinginess.

Kris greets Sehun, to which Sehun tilt his head slightly in an awkward bow. "What happened to Hansol?" Hansol was Tao's dorm mate for a couple months, and to Tao's disappointment, Hansol was too shy to hang out with Tao.

Tao shrugs, tapping on the table excitedly. "Hansol moved into a different dorm, with some other student, Taeyong, I think." Luhan could hear the excitement in his voice because whenever Tao was happy, a bit of his Chinese accent drips into his Korean. Tao loved people and friends; which was most likely the reason why Tao fit in nicely with their mix of friends, of all genres and age. Luhan glances over at Sehun, who was sitting next to him, clutching at a wad of napkins. He was quiet, not as loud, and not as colorful as he was in the shop. He didn't look shy. Just out of place.

Jongdae, with the friendliness that came easily scoots closer to Sehun. "I'm Jongdae, restaurant owner, resident cutie."

"I'm the resident cutie," Baekhyun interrupts, his words slurred. "Me, cute. I'm very cute." He wiggles his fingers, and tilts his head in aegyo. Fucking aegyo. 

"You sound like Chanyeol at the office," Luhan mutters, only loud enough for Sehun next to him to hear. Sehun chuckles into his water, and Luhan didn't know if it was because of what he said.

Yixing smiles fondly. "I think we can agree Luhan is the cutest here." It sounded harmless. It was harmless enough.

But something in Luhan's stomach twists and turns, and his stomach flops. "I'm handsome, remarkably handsome. Not cute." He pulls a strained smile, which to his relief, looked normal under the dim, red lighting.

_ So pretty. _

_ Can't you be anything else? _

"I'm going to get a drink," Luhan announce, dropping his jacket on the seat. "I need to get drunk enough to enjoy your guys' presence." He teases, and stands up from his chair, purposely elbowing Baekhyun as he stood up. Baekhyun scowls and leans into Chanyeol for comfort. He feels Sehun's gaze on him, as he shoulders past the masses of people.

It's all familiar, the night looming over Luhan's head, with the bar's lights plastering over the night. There's music, too, but all he can focus on are the lively chatter of the people around him. He had been to several clubs and bars all around Seoul, and a few in Beijing when he had the time; fancy, expensive ones where it's full of rich people, rich people that Luhan can put a name on, rich people that could plaster a name on Luhan, too.

Maybe that's why Luhan stopped going to bars and clubs meant for the rich ones. To avoid faces, to avoid those who had money.

Luhan slides into a seat, the cushion not at all comfortable. But there was never anything comfortable about bars. "Cranberry vodka." Luhan orders, nodding at the bartender who he had seen several times because this was a common hangout for him and his friends. However, he could never put a name to any of the bartenders' faces. Maybe it's because he gets too drunk to remember.

"Your alcohol taste are just as bland as your bubble tea taste." Luhan turns his head in the direction of the voice, to see Sehun hanging over the table. "You're probably someone who drinks coffee without sugar or cream."

Sehun looks different. Of course, Luhan has only seen him three times in total, including tonight. It could have been the dimness of the bar, or seeing Sehun without the work uniform. He wore a plain tee with dark pants that Luhan is sure is too tight for comfort.

"I do drink coffee without sugar or cream." Luhan fires back, but there was no irritation in his voice. "You sure you're old enough to drink?"

Sehun hums, tapping on the marble surface of the table. "Old enough to drink, old enough to drive." Sehun motions at bartender, and flashes a charismatic smile. He changes under the light, too. Sehun looks older; older than him.

"Scotch on the rocks," and after the bartender left, another one comes back with Luhan's drink. "So you look different today, you don't look like a snob from Busan."

Luhan was taken back and looks down at his clothes. Plain, but comfortable. His signature frown was etched on his face. "That 'snob' look gets me lionized at work, this is more comfortable," Luhan remembers being the only one in a Burberry coat and looking like he stepped out of a catalog for business attire. His inner self-cringes, just for a bit.

_ Comfortable in your skin. _

_ You're never comfortable. _

"What's there to lionize?" Sehun says freely, wrapping his fingers around his scotch drink that came a few seconds prior. "I see a man with bad taste in drinks." Luhan bit back some of his pointless, asinine retorts about how bad scotch is, but he doesn't. Instead, Luhan drinks his cranberry vodka, hoping there's enough to get him drunk enough for a gruesome headache on Sunday morning.

"Let's go back to the table," Luhan motions Sehun to follow him. "I'm tipsy enough to handle Baekhyun and Chanyeol." Sehun smiles into his scotch and follows him.

"Baekhyun's the one in the blue cap, right?" asks Sehun, as he weaves through the clutter of people quickly. "And Chanyeol is the one with badly bleached hair?"

"Yes, and, at least, someone agrees with me that his dye job is goddamn awful."

To no one's surprise except, maybe Sehun's Baekhyun was already out of it, animatedly wiggling fingers, arms flailing as he slurs his words. His dialect was evident now, considering the filters he usually has been nonexistent when replaced with alcohol.

Luhan decides that Baekhyun never had a filter anyways.

Even Chanyeol, who is a great sport and pairing to Baekhyun's aloofness, because he had enough of his own, seems tired and desperate. Chanyeol notices Luhan first, flashes eyes that were flooded with a silent plea. Luhan hums, and smiles ignoring Chanyeol to deal with drunk Baekhyun alone. There were fried chicken on the table. However, most of them were bones and grease, courtesy of Jongin.

Jongin, left to his own device could probably eat seven fried chickens.

"Luhan-hyung, how do you already know Sehunnie?" Tao asks as Luhan snuggles into his seat. Luhan snorts at the name Sehunnie. 

"Ahjumma's coffee shop is closed for the time being." Luhan shrugs into his drink. "Hyunjae took me to Yehet's Tea." Sehun looks smug at the mention of his workplace. "Joonmyun was there, too." Luhan went to ahjumma's coffee shop ever since he was a second year in high school. His Korean was better then as opposed to when he first came, but still difficult, to the point where he was too anxious to order food. But the ahjumma at the old coffee shop didn't even blink when Luhan fumbled with Korean.

He stuck out like a sore thumb now at the coffee shop, with his tailored suits and gelled back hair. But ahjumma, with her graying hair, still sees him as that little boy in a high school uniform, the one with no parents in the country, only money and a name.

She soon replaced that empty mother role for Luhan; at least, the Korean one.

The others asks about Sehun's major and workplace, to which he answers in a few words. Luhan sees Sehun's shoulders relax while conversing with the others, the tense in his hand relaxes, as he quits strangling the napkins in his hands.

Luhan doesn't talk much, and only adds in a snort or a scoff to the conversation. He kept turning his eyes towards Sehun, the university student with the tendency to smirk and raise his eyebrows at everything. Whenever Sehun tilts his head, Luhan can't help but notice the gentle slope of the nose, with the cupid's bow that lead to heart-shaped lips. His features weren't as sharp as Tao's or Kris', but it was certainly different. It was softer but defined. He reminded Luhan of the models he worked with when choosing pictures for next covers of VERILLI.

Luhan tore his eyes away from Sehun, staring at the murky drink in his hand. I see too many details, that's probably why I'm an editor, he says to himself, before downing the rest of his drink.

"Hyung," Jongin shakes Luhan's shoulder, and he realizes that he dazed off. "You ok? You look tired, even more than usual." Jongin frowns, and leans back.

"Oh," Luhan rubs at his eyes. "Yeah, I've just been handling stuff at work." Luhan can't sleep at night. Sometimes, Hyunjae comes over and soothes him to sleep, but it wasn't easy. His eyes trail over at the three glasses of beer he ordered after his cranberry vodka was out.

_ You don't sleep. _

_ I'm too scared. _

"What's your job?" Sehun asks, running his thin fingers around the rim of his empty glass.

"Editor, at VERILLI," Luhan recites lamely. He was used to this, several women at several bars approaching him, a sultry look in their eyes as they take in his lovely face and how amused they were to hear his rewarding job.

It sickens him.

"Does the alcohol help?" Luhan manages a smile towards Yixing, whose face was etched with worries. He nods, before tossing a greasy french fry towards his lips, and misses.

Chanyeol laughs.

Chanyeol gets kicked in the shin.

"Hey, Sehun," Chanyeol winces between each word. "Now that you know our circle of friends, stay away from Luhan-hyung, he's the devil in a boy's body." Kris mutters something about how Kyungsoo is even worse than Luhan, but that wasn't the topic.

The corners of Sehun's lips twitches. "That's hard to believe. He was struggling to order bubble tea last week." Luhan is too tired to argue, but he musters up a glare to make up for it.

One o'clock ticks in on them, as Kris decides he should go home for the evening. Baekhyun and Chanyeol follow suit, as Chanyeol had to drop Baekhyun off home; he was too drunk to walk a straight line. Jongdae bids a goodbye, saying something about families coming in for breakfast on Sunday mornings.

"Luhan, you're completely out of it," Tao says, struggling into his coat. "Do you want me to haul you a taxi?"

"I'll take him home," Yixing pipes. "All I drank was orange juice." Jongin scoffs but doesn't say anything. Sehun looks over at Luhan, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Chocolate-hyung, stop by the shop tomorrow," Sehun whispers, and Luhan feels as if Sehun is too close. "I can make a pretty good tea for hangovers."

Sehun leaves with Tao and Jongin back to their dorms.

"Up you go," Yixing wraps both his arms around Luhan's, pulling him up. "Let's get your drunk ass home."

"I'm your hyung," Luhan slurs, "don't _swear_ at my butt."

➳➳➳

"Hyunjae-ah," Luhan whimpers into the phone. "I feel like hell."

Luhan could hear the frown in her voice. "How much did you drink?"

He scrunches up his face in thought, but thinking didn't help with his hangover. "I don't know; it was in the single digits still."

"You know you can't tolerate alcohol well."

_ You can't tolerate anything. _

_ NOTHING. _

"It helps me sleep," Luhan pulls the covers of his sheets over his head, ignoring the sun. "You're not home yet?"

"I told you I was staying the night," Luhan hears her crumble up paper. "I won't be back until after lunch."

"Hyunjae-ah," Luhan whines. "Hyunjae-ah."

"I'm sorry, Luhan." Hyunjae sighs into the phone. "Drink water, I'll be back soon." She hangs up.

Luhan tosses the phone aside, and snuggles into the comfort of his bed, trying his best to ignore the thumping pain in his head.

He wonders if things would be different if they were truly in love.

_ No one loves you. _

_ I can. I will. _

Luhan throws himself out of bed, trapped in his entangled sheets. He wanted to call Kyungsoo, but he knew Kyungsoo would have his head on a grill if Luhan calls him early in the morning. Instead, he shuffles through his apartment, throwing over a sweater before heading out.

Luhan passed by the bubble tea shop, and catches a glimpse of tall Sehun, wiping down windows. He debated stopping by, just like Sehun had suggested that he should. He would've stopped by, but the thought of having Jongdae's Sunday special waffles urged him to keep driving, even if it meant giving up Sehun's different bubble tea.

Jongdae's restaurant was in between a tailor shop and an internet cafe. Luhan enters the restaurant with a pounding headache, which was increasing by the fuel of screaming children and families eating their breakfast happily on an a pleasant Sunday morning. "Happy, my ass." Luhan hisses at particularly no one, but a little girl at nearby table gasps and looks up at passing Luhan with wide eyes. "Shit, I mean," Luhan waves at the little girl and darts away from the table before the mother accuses him of teaching her daughter profanity at a young age.  _They learn anyways,_ he thinks.

He walks up to the front counter and drops his head onto the cold surface, sighing heavily as his pounding headache tore apart his brain cells. "Hey, Luhan," Jongdae's voice came closer, and he feels his friend shaking him by the shoulder. "Don't die here at the counter, I don't want to get shut down for a death scene."

"Hah, you're funny." Luhan deadpans, before dragging himself off the seat, following Jongdae behind the counter. Jongdae leads him to the break room, to which Luhan happily threw himself onto the couch. "Why did you guys let me drink so much?"

"You don't listen," Jongdae says, as he pulls out more pillows from the cabinet and tosses them at Luhan. "Want some kimbap? Or fried eggs?" Jongdae drapes a blanket over Luhan; that smells faintly of pine. "Or Baechu-deonjangguk."

"I want Western waffles, with lots of syrup."

"Haejung-suk it is, then!" Jongdae claps his hands together. "Helps with the hangover."

"Asshole," mutters Luhan, but he doesn't hear him.

Luhan always found his way into Jongdae's restaurant, even when it was still his parents running it, not him. But his mother treated Luhan kindly, always offering a bento box or wrapped dinner when they were still both in high school. Luhan and Jongdae would fall asleep in the break room after hours of studying—they called it studying, it was more them two doodling on homework assignments—or hide in there whenever Jongdae pulled a prank on Kris and Kris would murderously look for him.

Jongdae comes back with a bowl of haejung-suk, and sets the soup down on the coffee table, along with kimchi and rice. "Eat well, idiot." Jongdae smiles cheekily, and Luhan hisses at him but sits upright to eat. "Later I need to stop by Yixing's to drop off his meals at his dance class. He's been working hard lately with Jongin and Taemin to master their dancing, want to come?"

Luhan hums into his soup. "If my hangover clears."

Jongdae laughs, and stands up, patting off the imaginary dust off his jeans. "Oh yeah, Sehun from last night, I heard he's being incorporated into their recital."

Luhan makes a noise of surprise. "But isn't he new to the studio?" he remembers Jongin saying something about how long it took him to reach the top.

Jongdae shrugs. "Apparently before moving, he was a top student at his previous dance school, I guess that shadowed him all the way to Seoul." He closes the door after him, to attend to his restaurant, leaving Luhan alone with soup and his thoughts.

Luhan makes a slight frown. He always had the assumption that tall people weren't the best dancers, having Kris and Chanyeol as walking proof. Both their limbs were too long, making them clumsy and dangerous enough that Jongdae never lets them in the kitchen; dangerous enough that Kyungsoo stays at least two feet away from them.

But maybe Sehun's different.

Luhan finishes the soup quickly, leaving him with only the kimchi and rice left, which he ate happily. Luhan was always hungry after a hangover, the alcohol and pain leaving his system, only with the pang of hungry left to irritate him. His phone buzzes, and the phone nearly slips between his fingers.

9:21 AM  
   
Hyunjae: Luhan, how's your hangover?

Luhan: Better. Jongdae made me Haejung-suk

Hyunjae: I'm glad  =^.^=  
   
Luhan: Let's have dinner tonight @ my place

Hyunjae: Ok, I'll see you @ 6:00 tonight then

    Luhan: Drive safely~

   
He pushes his phone back into his pocket, and snuggles into the warm blanket that smells of pine, and it was pleasant; he buries his face into the soft material, and shuts his eyes, letting himself breathe on an early Sunday morning.

➳➳➳

Jongdae walks into the break room around noon, and Luhan swipes a few more times in Candy Crush before sitting upright. Luhan grins, baring all his teeth like Chanyeol does; however, Luhan has a feeling that it wasn't as charming when he did it—not, that he'd ever tell Chanyeol that.

Jongdae scoops up the pillows on the couch. "Your hair looks like shit," he says bluntly, tossing the pillows into the cabinet. "It's all static-y, and it's sticking up all over the place." Luhan glowers at Jongdae's back as he unties his apron and tosses on to the chipped wood hanger.

"It's probably still better than that ramyun hair of yours," Luhan fires back, but folds the blankets into a lumpy square, before tossing it into the cabinet. "You should have listened to me; the perm was a bad idea."

Jongdae pulls at curly strand. "I like it." Luhan stares at him. "Your opinion doesn't weigh much."

"My opinion considers of twenty people." Luhan sticks out a tongue childishly, running his hand through his tangled hair.

Jongdae shakes his head, the corners of his mouth twitching into an almost smile. "How come your Korean is flawless whenever it comes to insulting and boasting?" Luhan ignores him and slips into his sneakers.

"Jongdae," Luhan frowns looking outside. "I didn't bring a jacket, let me borrow one?" Jongdae nods without hesitation, and pulls a jacket from the hanger and tosses it at Luhan.

"Be careful, hyung. Especially with winter coming up." Jongdae zips up his coat, and Luhan follows suit. "You got all those fancy cashmere sweaters that put Joonmyun's to shame—wear them more often in the chilly weather, yeah?" Luhan makes a noise of agreement, before heading out of the break room.

Jongdae made haemul pajeon and japchae in to-go boxes, with Luhan carrying the crispy kimchi made by Jongeun-noona this morning, confident in the fact that Jongdae could reheat whatever necessary at Yixing's studio. The two of them heads towards Luhan's car, as Luhan had insisted on driving. "I'll drop you off later; I don't trust your driving skills."

Luhan was tapping to the nothing during the drive, whereas Jongdae was singing under his breath to some new girl group song. "Punk," says Luhan. "I can never understand your love for pop, I keep hearing all that gee gee thing over and over, and I'm not sure if it's my Korean but honestly what the hell is it that you listen to?"

"If you don't understand my love for pop, you can never understand me."

"I don't plan to." Luhan retorts and Jongdae sneers at him. "Let's be strangers."

"Have we been strangers for ten years?" Jongdae asks sarcastically, pausing his music.

"Yes," Luhan says. "You're a stranger in my car; I could kidnap you and kill you." Jongdae scoffs, before starting up his music once more. They continued to drive, passing by busy streets, littered with people shopping or hanging out with friends and family. Luhan notices that the streets became a little bit less crowded, as the people left the streets to disappear off into cafes or buildings. "It's going to rain, I think."

"Pajeon tastes better when it's raining," says Jongdae, turning his attention to the dark clouds up ahead. "At least, we have an excuse now not to eat outside—Yixing keeps dragging us to that area near his studio to eat, it was crawling with bugs." He shutters at the memory. Yixing had deemed it a good idea to eat their brunch in the area that he had stumbled upon. They all left with intolerable bug bites that day.

Yixing's dance studio was nearly empty because it was lunch time, but they knew he was somewhere there with his undeniable favorites of Jongin and Taemin. Luhan wonders if Sehun will make it to the favorite's list. It wasn't hard. Yixing had the tendency to like everything and everyone, much like Tao.

"Yixing-ah, we're here!" Jongdae shouts, his voice echoing off the walls of the hall. It wasn't raining too much when they stepped out of the car, but it was downright pouring now, rain splattering across the glass windows, making a ruckus. They both hear the faint electronic music down the corridor. Following the sound, the two of them barging into the practice room with a gleeful Jongdae shaking his bags of food and Luhan trailing behind, trying to avoid his flailing arms as Jongdae shakes the bags of pajeon and japchae.

Luhan flattens the palm of his hand out to swat Jongdae. "That's pajeon and japchae you're flailing around." He reminds him and sets the kimchi down onto the plastic table that Yixing had to replace.

Yixing averts his attention from Jongin and Taemin, who were in sync with the song, not taking away their focus even with Luhan and Jongdae there. Yixing, in a low cut tank, was panting from the exhausting dance. "Hey," his voice was hoarse as he grasps for his water bottle. "They're getting pretty good, huh?"

Luhan glances over at the two, watching how Jongin went from giggly college student to a charismatic dancer. And Taemin, who's lower face, was always arched in a smile, was dancing intensely. "Yeah," Luhan nods, smiling at the sight of his younger friends being so energetic. His parents made sure he stayed away anything athletic and ushered him towards the finer things they said.

_ You didn't play soccer as a kid. _

_ Too pretty for the field. _

Jongdae unwraps the cloth holding the pajeon and japchae, humming along to the electric, upbeat song that Luhan doesn't know. He advanced towards the folded chairs, pulling out enough for, one, two, three, four, five people—

"선생님! I'm sorry! I'm a little late; I was held up at work because my co-worker wasn't there yet and I-I didn't know it would rain," Sehun bursts into the room, panting just as much as Yixing. Luhan looks up, amused at the sight of Sehun soaked to the point where his hair was slick against his forehead, his work outfit pressed against him, outlining him.

Yixing's dimple was showing as he smiles, waving. "It's ok, Sehunnie. Jonginnie and Taeminnie were just warming up." He motions towards the locker room behind him with a wave of his hand. "You should change before you get sick." Sehun sighs in relief, and nods, before noticing Luhan. Luhan quickly snaps out of it and pulls out another chair. Six people.  

"Oh, hi hyung." Sehun took a few steps closer to Luhan. "You didn't stop by the shop for my hangover bubble tea, how you are holding up?" he whispers, and Luhan felt a drip from Sehun's wet hair land on Luhan's bare neck as he spoke.

"I forgot," Luhan lies, and he feels stiff. He had only met Sehun last week, but he was standing so close. It wasn't that Luhan minded skinship, Chanyeol always draping his arms around him at work, and Jongdae and him falling asleep against each other in the break room. But Sehun was almost a stranger. "Sorry about that."

_ You're not sorry. _

Sehun leans back, and Luhan could breathe again. "That's alright; I forgive you." Luhan looks blankly at Sehun. "Make up for it by stopping at some other time in the morning, I'm lonely then." And with that, Sehun in two quick strides, opens the door to the locker room to change.

Yixing falls back into the chair, his eyes still on Jongin and Taemin. He clicks his tongue after Sehun shuts the door. "He's so reckless, and he's only been here for three weeks." Yixing wasn't criticizing him; he had a faint smile painted in the corners of his cheeks. "Good kid, though, juggling dance, class, and work."

"Tao does that with his wushu," Luhan points out, pulling out chopsticks. "So does Taemin and Jongin."

"Jongin sleeps at the restaurant," Jongdae says loudly enough for the two dancers to hear. Jongin grunts in response. "I swear, I only hired him out of friendship, and Taemin comes in and distracts him even more."

"Plus, Tao got fired at the pet store he was part-timing at," Yixing adds, "he spent more time taking selcas with them than actually at the cashier." Yixing turns off the music, and with the music gone, Jongin and Taemin slow down, in sticky sweat and heavy panting. "Fuel up your energy before you practice again," and hands the two towels to chase the sweat away.

"Hi Jongdae-hyung and Luhan-hyung," Taemin greets them as he downs half a bottle of water. "Sorry I didn't greet you right away, I was focused." Luhan dismisses it and offers the two another water bottle, which they took graciously.

"Don't worry about it," Jongdae opens the box of kimchi, and Yixing comes back with a steaming bowl of broken rice. "When's your recital? I need to know to fit it into my schedule." Jongdae winks.

"Don't kid hyung, we know you have too much free time." Jongin teases, and collapses into the folding chair, looking at the food excitedly.

"Shut up, I got plenty of things to do!"

"It's in December, the first week." Taemin interrupts, cutting off the bickering. "It's plenty enough of time for Sehun to learn his part, too. He's an incredibly fast learner."

"Not as fast as me," Jongin says.

"Oh, definitely faster than you."

Sehun comes out, with his towel wringing at his hair. Luhan notices he's in dance clothes, a bright red tank with basketball shorts. Sehun pulls the towel away from his hair, having it all frizzy but drier. "Wow, looks good." He murmurs, tossing the towel over his shoulders.

Jongdae grins, and pulls out a chair out for Sehun. "Thanks, I'm no Kyungsoo, but I'm better than Joonmyun."

Sehun sits down, gripping onto a pair of chopsticks. "Kyungsoo?"

Luhan remember Kyungsoo wasn't there last night, therefore Sehun still didn't know him. "He's a friend of ours. You'll get along well with him if you don't make height jokes or act stupid like Chanyeol."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks for the food, I didn't have time to eat because I was late." Sehun smiles softly, before taking a piece of kimchi and placing it on his plate. Jongin was scarfing down the japchae, where as Taemin was patting his back telling him to slow down.

Luhan sees the hesitation in Sehun's eyes, and absentmindedly, he tears off a piece of pajeon and places it on Sehun's plate, and pulling some noodles from the japchae and piling it on his plate. And Sehun, in the few times Luhan had seen him, showed a reaction, even if it was small. "Sorry...I'm just used to doing that, for Hyunjae and everyone," Luhan trails off, before he starts rambling. He grips the pair of metal chopsticks in his hand, before tearing off a piece of the pajeon and putting it on his empty plate.

Sehun looked less startled, and more pleased. "No, why are you sorry? Thanks." Sehun starts to eat the japchae, smiling around it. He doesn't question who Hyunjae is, and Luhan felt a bit at rest. At one point, Jongin chokes a bit after trying to stuff everything at once in his mouth, and a slightly exasperated Taemin was slapping Jongin's back so he wouldn't die.

After clearing his throat with water, he spoke up. "You know what goes well with pajeon? Makgeolli."

Yixing shakes his head, and tuts at him. "Jongin, that's wine."

"It has very little alcohol!" Jongin protests, the whining coming into his voice.

"I don't care how much or how little, you're dancing, and I don't want alcohol in your system, Jonginnie." Jongin doesn't open his mouth, knowing Yixing's words were final, but the disappointment was evident on his face.

"How's the food, Sehun?" Luhan asks Sehun, who was sitting next to him. The others emerged into a mini-debate about which drink was better at bars, and Luhan didn't feel inclined to join, the hangover from morning dawn upon him.

"Tasty." Sehun takes a bite of pajeon. "Really tasty, reminds me of home—" he stops mid-sentence, and says nothing, only pressing broken pieces of rice against his mouth, chewing slowly.

Luhan doesn't ask, his eyes focusing on the tension of Sehun's shoulder, the stiffness of his jaw as he clamped it over food mechanically. Luhan sinks his teeth into his bottom lip from asking where he's from, but he knows better. He knows it all; strangers leaning across tables with expensive drinks in their grip. _Where's home for you? You're not a born Seoulite, are you?_ Words that spills over late night drinks at fancy bars that cost too much for a night of drunk talking. Luhan never got drunk enough to tell. _Home is Korea;_ he'd reply with finality that causes the other to frown and walk away.

Because Luhan left the mold his mother made in China—Korea was his sun now.

However, China lingered as a shadow on bright days, always there to remind him of what's following him.

Luhan knows his limits and boundaries, and leans back away from Sehun, not pushing any further.

_ Pretty boys have no boundaries. _

_ You have no limit. _

_ I do. _

The uncomfortable silence that fell between the two was only for a few seconds before Jongdae bursts out in hoots of laughter from what Taemin said. When he laughs, he laughs animatedly with all his limbs, his hair bouncing up and down so much that Luhan could easily mistake him for a poodle, and his hands clapping as he laughs his weird laugh.

"Your laugh is too recognizable," Luhan picks up a clump of rice and chucks it at him, hitting his cheek with a few grains still stuck to his face. "I keep hearing it in my dreams."

"Hyung, I didn't know you had such a flirtatious attraction to me, after all, these years." Jongdae bats his eyelashes, and twirls a finger around his curly hair.

Something in Luhan breaks. 

"Must I add that your laugh is usually in the background of a clown chasing me off a building." Luhan shudders. "I hate heights." It was then that the pajeon felt like Styrofoam in his life, and his legs locked in place. He's sure no one notices because he laughs at the right time and does everything on time. Everything was right. It stayed like that.

"Have you been to Namsan Tower?" Jongin inquires, mouth full of noodles and beef. Luhan makes a face at the piece of carrot hanging at the edge of Jongin's mouth. Sehun shakes his head.

"Not yet, this is my first time in Seoul." He dabs the corners of his lips with a napkin, "and I recently moved in a few weeks ago, I haven't gotten the novelty to be a tourist, I did get the chance to be a stressed Hongik student, a bubble tea employee, and a dance student here, though." He adds, and Yixing perks up.

"Well, Luhan-hyung here is a great tour guide, he's gone up Namsan Tower to the point where it's an uncountable number!" Jongin continues. "He's been to Gwanghwamun Square so many times; I swear Sejong the Great's statue is tired of seeing his face."

Luhan rolls his eyes. "Don't exaggerate, Jonginnie." But it was true. On the nights where he couldn't clear his head enough in high school, nights where his aunt was already fast asleep under the city night, Luhan was wide awake, and wandering Seoul in the grand city that seemed vacant, even with the bustling crowd of midnight shoppers and flashing, neon lights. He still wandered Seoul, and now with his car, if he were really out of it, he'd drive to Incheon for a changing view. He was out of it enough time to have seen Incheon several, several times.

"I'm also sure Sejong the Great is also tired of pigeon poop," Sehun muses, "A tour guide seems nice. Free?"

"80,000 won per hour, an additional 20,000 won if you want me to be a good tour guide," Luhan says cheekily.

"My tour guides are free," Jongdae adds.

Yixing shakes his head. "There's a reason it's free, I remember coming here the first time towards the end of the first year in high school, and you took Luhan and me on your special tour around Seoul."

Luhan remembers faintly of the memory, where Jongdae had tried his best with his Chinese he learned in school. _"To your right, you will see Korea," Jongdae made a wave of his hand. "On your right, you will also see Korea."_

Luhan and Yixing had stood in there in the winter cold, incredulous looks painted on their faces, wondering if they had heard their new Korean friend wrong.

Jongdae had continued walking down the streets of busy Seoul, oblivious to them. _"Oh, and if you look behind you, you might even see Korea."_

 

Jongdae glowers. "If you guys wanted a real tour guide back then, you would've gone with the tour group then." Luhan slings his arm around Jongdae, ruffling up his ramyun hair.

"But you wouldn't have treated us to tteokbokki afterward."

"Chocolate-hyung, you should give me your number," Sehun says in between bites of kimchi. "So I have a tour guide on my contact, and I can whip up Sehun's Magical Bubble Tea as payment."

Luhan raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything, pulling his phone out. "Is that the name now?"

Sehun shrugs, plucking the phone out of his hand. "I've decided that anything with my name on it is deemed worthy," He says it lightly, with no aura of haughtiness lingering around. Luhan likes that. Sehun hands back his phone, and Luhan presses on the contact. 'Sehunnie' it read, and he sees that Sehun had already texted himself, which were a bunch of incoherent Hangul characters jumbled up together in a spam.

Sehun and Jonginnie engage in a conversation of dance, to which Luhan felt was alien. Taemin, on the other hand, was too busy tapping away on his phone. Despite the inability for Luhan to understand what eight count was or if pas de Guerre was English or some other language, it was obvious why Sehun had already gotten a spot in their upcoming recital of such short notice.

Although Luhan's sure that it was Yixing's sweet talk and dimples that got his new student into the performance.

It's nearly five o'clock in the afternoon, and Luhan realizes that Hyunjae was coming over in an hour. "I'm going to meet Hyunjae for dinner; I'll see you guys around." He stops. "Are you going to stay Jongdae?"

"I'll probably stay here longer, I'll hijack a ride with Taemin or Yixing, they live close to the restaurant." Taemin nods absentmindedly, tapping ruthlessly on his phone. "But are you sure you can drive in the rain?"

"I'll be okay."

Luhan leaves, and feels that sinking feeling of disappointment, to not see Sehun dance at least once before he left.

➳➳➳

Luhan's aunt was the one who showed him how to cook.

There was never really any need to know culinary back in Beijing—why would there be, when the maids and cooks were cluttered into the kitchen, preparing a family dinner for only one child?

Luhan grips the handle of the skillet, letting the sizzling of the tofu replace the numbing in his ear. He didn't bother to change, still in the jacket that Jongdae lent to him, his hair still undone. He'll give it back tomorrow after work, he decides, if he found the time.

_ No one has time for you. _

_ Yes they do. _

He could only make side dishes, and that's one of the big reasons why he eats at Jongdae's restaurant on most nights when Hyunjae wasn't over, and why he has that one seat in the way back of the restaurant like his. Of course now, for convenience, he could take a brisk walk to Kyungsoo's, who seemed to always have an extra plate or two at dinner.

 

Luhan, organizing the side dishes in an orderly fashion, hears his phone ring, signaling for a text message. He wonders if it's Jongdae, or Chanyeol asking about watching a football game with him. Luhan peels off the coat, leaving it on his couch. His text tone was obnoxious, a _boing_ sound that Baekhyun picked out for him.

Luhan didn't have to open his phone to see the email as the notification.

Hyunjae arrives with a bag pressed to her chest, slipping her small feet into the rosy slippers Luhan kept for her. "Luhan?" she calls out, setting the bag onto the table. "My mom made us bulgogi, I thought we could eat it for dinner tonight." Her back was turned to him, busy pulling out the dishes out of the bag. Luhan's grip around his phone tightened, and he wanted to smash his phone, to break it to smaller pieces. But he couldn't; it was anger and frustration that lasted only a few minutes.

_ You're not pretty when you're angry. _

_ I know. _

Without much thinking, Luhan's right behind Hyunjae, his arms snaking around her waist as she yelps.  This is wrong, he thinks.  This is selfish. Luhan nuzzles his forehead into Hyunjae's hair; pressing against her, so her shoulder was caved in by his own. It was small, photogenic moments like this where Luhan wonders if it could be better; better if they were in love.

"Are you...are you alright?" Hyunjae asks quietly, setting down the plates on the table. He could feel it—the way she won't ever lean into his touch because she doesn't have to. Luhan didn't say anything but stood there in the warmth of human contact. He knows it's wrong; because he could never love her, and Hyunjae can't look at him. Not like that. Those eyes were reserved for someone else, someone who Luhan laughs with. It was the look in her eyes that reminded Luhan of the pair that haunted him in high school.

_ Let's try to love her. _

_ I can't. not fair. _

But Luhan needed this, he needed the warmth of someone else's skin, he needed someone close. "Let's eat," whispers Luhan, his words barely audible, as he lets his arms drop to his sides, moving away from Hyunjae.  Too selfish, but you needed it.  

_ I WANTED IT. _

_ No I don't. _

And just like that, Hyunjae didn't argue or ask, but set the bulgogi in the center of the table, accompanied with bok choy that Luhan took out of the fridge, and the fried tofu that seemed rather sad next to everything else. In truth, Luhan didn't feel hungry, the beef noodles and pajeon earlier had sustained his hunger. "It was raining earlier," Hyunjae says quietly, picking at the bulgogi, and putting it on Luhan's plate.

"I don't like rain in the fall." Luhan says weakly, and his constricted chest feeling wavers, the tension in his arms clearing. "It's wet, and cold."

Hyunjae shows a ghost of a smile. "You don't like rain at all."

The view from the Luhan's apartment stayed murky and gloomy as they ate. "How was it, at your parents' house?"

Hyunjae goes on, talking about how her brother seemed the most excited, bouncing up and down as his wife revealed the happy news. Luhan notices how happy she looks, talking about her family—evident enough she was loved, evident enough that she loves them. And for a moment, even just for a few seconds, he could feel the joy radiate off her, and sink into his skin.

"My father emailed me," Luhan says bluntly, as they wash the dishes. "Twice, I didn't...I didn't read them, yet."

Hyunjae doesn't look surprised, an unreadable expression that Luhan was familiar with. I can never read her. "Don't you think that it's time, to talk to your family?" Hyunjae wipes off the plates and sets it in the cabinet above her. "It's been years, Luhan."

Luhan feels as if the plate in his hands was going to break under his pressure. "They shadowed me, and I don't want that."

_ They don't hurt me here. _

_ not true not true  they'll always be there. _

Hyunjae leaves his apartment with a good night hug, but the tension did not leave the room, nor did Luhan.

➳➳➳

Luhan was up an hour earlier than he needed to; his hair already combed back. He appreciates how the styled back hair made him look manlier, as oppose to the untouched hair that was too soft and made him look like a deer.

Shuffling all his files into his bag, which Yixing got for him on his twenty-third birthday, his phone _boing'd_ at him, several, several times.  

_Boing boing, boing boing, boing boing._

Glaring at his phone, he snatched it up, nearly having it slip through his fingers. It was from his kakaotalk, the notifications flashing instantly on his screen.

✘✘✘

 

6:17 AM.

Sehunnie: chocolate hyung visit me

Sehunnie: the shop is dead like my soul come

Sehunnie: i'll make you my special bubble tea

Sehunnie: come come come~  ≧'◡'≦

Luhan wonders if glaring at his screen will burn a hole through Sehun's forehead.

Luhan: I have work

Sehunnie: please hyung i need human communication

Sehunnie: it'll be quick  (>‿◠)✌

 

There was no real excuse for him not go, and he never wants to be the one that shows up at work one hour earlier. He messages Chanyeol and Kyungsoo asking if they want any bubble tea; having Chanyeol wanting the sweetest and Kyungsoo wanting a whatever.

It wasn't windy in the morning, the crisp leaves, colored with a darker hue of red and orange. It's funny, Luhan thinks, how pretty things get before they die.

_ You're pretty, Luhan. _

_ I see it. _

He takes the car, not because he needs to—it's a 10-minute walk—but because he has to go to work afterward.

"Chocolate-hyung!" Sehun waves, and motions Luhan to sit down. "Oh, fancy suit."

"Fancy suits are a must at my work," he says and tries to sit comfortably in the bean bag chair. Sehun snickers.

"You stick out like a sore thumb, hyung." Sehun tosses his hat aside, his hair matted. "The attention always seems to be on you, at least, mine."

"Are you saying that I look stupid wearing an expensive suit seating in a bean?" Luhan asks flatly, meant as a rhetorical question.

"Yes."

Luhan huffs and pulls at his tie. He notices that there aren't as many workers here, not even when he first came. "Are you the only one that works here?" he looks around, seeing only neon colored bean bags and silly pictures on the wall.

Sehun shakes his head. "No, but I work the cashier mostly. Ten and Jaehyun are in the back room." He pauses. "They're probably watching porn."

"Oh."

Sehun slumps into the bean bag next to Luhan, his legs too long, so he ends up sprawled across the bean bag. His thigh brushes against Luhan's, and Luhan shivers, but Sehun doesn't notice. "Seoul seems nice," Sehun murmurs, his face pressed against the beanbag. "It's loud enough."

Luhan scrunches up his face. "It's dangerous if you ask me, pigeon shit and too many people." Luhan turns his attention to the window, seeing early birds walking their dogs. Seoul was calm in the mornings, except say for the cars driving to work in the busy city. But it was nice, to see people open their stores and boutiques, and elders roaming around before students and businessmen start crowding in.

"Do you think people are dangerous, chocolate-hyung?" Sehun opens his eyes and looks at Luhan lazily. "Seoul people?" Sehun turns his head, so he was close to Luhan's shoulder.

"No," Luhan's voice dropped a pitch, his voice low. "I think everyone's dangerous."

➳➳➳

Luhan leaves twenty minutes later with a cardboard carton carrying his drinks. Sehun had suggested the sweetest one for Chanyeol, having Luhan eyeing Sehun warily as he pours cups and cups of sugar into it. Sehun was a bit more muted with Kyungsoo, having made an almond one. "Elderly people like the almond flavor because it's so subtle," Sehun had said, adding a straw to it.

Luhan's sure that Kyungsoo would have slit the tall one's throat if he heard that.

Luhan had spent awhile talking to Sehun while sprawled out on the bean bags, in suits and aprons. He told him about Kyungsoo's large owl eyes, Chanyeol's bleached hair story, and Joonmyun's ugly sweaters.

"And you?" Sehun had asked, head propped on his arm, eyes blinking lazily. "Anything about you?"

Luhan had shaken his head and shifted uncomfortably. "There's nothing to me." Luhan felt suddenly small in his suit as if the jacket was going to fall off his shoulders any moment, and the tie around his neck would tighten out of anxiety.

Sehun had said nothing to that, but only excused himself to mix the drinks together in the back. Luhan leaves the bubble tea shop afterward, waving goodbye to a sleepy Sehun. "Bye chocolate-hyung," Sehun shouted, too loud for the morning, "be my tour guide soon, I want to see Seoul!"

It wasn't until then when Luhan was trying to cram three cups into the two cup holders in the front that there were scribbles in colorful sharpies on the plastic. On Kyungsoo's, there was an owl poorly drawn, with Japanese emoticons drawn all over it. Chanyeol's was cute as well, a stick figure with frizzled hair. Luhan feels the edges of his lips twitch, before letting them rise; there was no one to see him smile like an idiot anyways.

Luhan's had a deer scribbled on it though to him it looked like a tree log with legs and sticks sprouting out it's head.

**I would rather hear about you then joonmyun-ssi's ugly sweater, however, it may be one in the same~**

Luhan sips his drink happily, ignoring the slight insult note that came with it.

➳➳➳

"Lulu-hyung!" Chanyeol hurls himself at Luhan the second he stepped into the office, nearly crushing the drinks and toppling Luhan.

" _What the fuck—_ " Luhan wrestles Chanyeol off, elbowing him in the rib. "That's not a professional way to greet someone, Chanyeollie," Luhan says, flattening down his suit.

"Since when was Chanyeollie professional?" Kyungsoo was also in the office with them, inking a piece of paper. "He is an octopus with legs and bleached hair."

Chanyeol scowls, but his eyes brighten after seeing the drinks in Luhan's hands. "Oh, me? For me?" Luhan nods and presses the sweet bubble tea into Chanyeol's hands. "I didn't know you drank bubble tea, I bought you one in Incheon, and you sneered at it."

Luhan says nothing as he hands the other one to Kyungsoo, who looked it at the drink curiously. "Who drew these?"

"Sehunnie." Luhan tosses the carton into the recycling bin. "He's Tao's friend; you weren't there on Saturday." Luhan goes to his desk, running his hand through the files laying there, with sticky notes attached and in messy handwriting.

"I like Sehun," Chanyeol says around the straw, eyes focused on his computer. "He's friendlier than Kyungsoo, and good taste in drinks." Kyungsoo shoots a crumpled piece of paper at Chanyeol's head. "See?" The paper bounces off Chanyeol's head and lands on Luhan's desk.

Luhan murmurs a yes before shuffling through his papers. The edits he had to make for the articles were exhausting, even if his Korean was good. Chanyeol settled down and went into his business mode, which is the most they could say about him; it was also the longest he goes without bursting into conversations and hugs.

It was nearly lunch time when Soojung knocked on their door, with a stack of files resting in her hands. "Mr. Lu, Mr. Changmin would like to have your opinions on these covers." He motions Soojung to come in, and she sets the file in his hands delicately, spreading the four slightly different covers for December.

Luhan took a few, well-spent minutes humming and holding up the covers to the light. "This, this one is the best," Luhan holds up one of them, pushing the other ones aside. "The first had too much going on, and the third one had the wrong colors. The fourth one was too cluttered." He wraps up all the papers and places them neatly in the file with a charismatic smile. Chanyeol coughs out smooth followed by another cough.

Luhan hopes he chokes on his mint.

Soojung tilts her head in a good bye. "Thank you, I will tell Mr. Changmin about your valued opinion."

After Soojung had shut the door, Chanyeol rolls his chair over to Luhan, bumping into him. "Hey, Luhan, let's eat outside today with Kyungsoo—I'm getting sick of the food they serve here, it's all the same," He whines, nudging Luhan.

"You're so touchy with your hands, keep them somewhere else," Luhan mutters, but stacks up his papers. "Grab Kyungsoo, we'll get lunch across the street."

"I can keep my hands in my pants."

"Yeah, but you can't keep your dick in your pants, so there's the problem." Luhan shoots back, pushing in his chair and kicking Chanyeol in the process. "You're like a hormonal teenager whenever you see a pretty girl."

They find Kyungsoo still in his office, the bubble tea cup emptied of everything still next to him. "Let's go Kyungsoo, it's happy lunch time!" Chanyeol tugs at Kyungsoo's arm, lifting him out of his seat. On their way out, Kyungsoo nudges Luhan.

"That bubble tea taste good, I like it. Do you stop by the shop every morning?" Kyungsoo asks, his large, owl-like eyes looking at Luhan. It reminds Luhan of Sehun's poorly drawn owl, that looked like it was done by a 5th grader. However, Luhan thinks they can all agree it's better than Kris' drawings, the ones that Baekhyun snickers and takes a picture of whenever they lounge around at his house.

"I'll try to since ah jummah's coffee shop is closed for the time being." The three of the cross the busy street. It was nice, to have a little restaurant across from VERILLI. "Want me to get you guys drinks when I do?" Kyungsoo nods, cracking his knuckles.

Chanyeol snuggles in between them, flopping his lengthy arms around the two, weighing them down; especially Kyungsoo. "Let's orders lots and lots, maybe some dosirak, and an egg sandwich for all us—do you think it's too early for soju?"

Kyungsoo smacks Chanyeol's arm, but he didn't flinch. "You're rambling, and it is too early for soju, you're at work." Chanyeol pouts but pulls Kyungsoo into a headlock, Luhan doing nothing but laugh. "Don't laugh, hyung, get this fat ass of a lump off me before I kick him—" he gasps, punching at Chanyeol's forearm.

"I've been told that my fat ass is cute." Chanyeol bats his eyelashes flirtatiously and ruffles up Kyungsoo's hair.

"By who, Baekhyunnie?" Luhan mocks, and Chanyeol glowers. Luhan hands Kyungsoo a comb from his bag, which he took with relief.

"Do you normally carry a brush everywhere?" Chanyeol scrunches up his face, standing outside the restaurant.

"If I didn't I'd walk around with a shit nest for hair every time you ruffled my hair," Luhan says flatly, helping Kyungsoo comb his hair back. "Don't be jealous of our hair just because yours look like dirty snow in the winter."

"Hey!"

Their bickering died down when they entered the restaurant, taking a seat by the window because it was always Kyungsoo's preference. Luhan lets the other two order for him since their taste were similar after eating together for so many years. Luhan takes a look at his phone, ignoring the two email notifications that he has yet to read. Instead, he stares at Sehun's kakaotalk, fingers hovering over the keyboard; because Luhan was never one to text first.

12:11 PM  
   
Luhan: Do you usually scribble all over your customers' drinks?

Sehunnie: only the special ones （；￣︶￣）

   
   
Luhan snorts at the Japanese emoticons, because Joonmyun and Hyunjae were so fond of them.  
   
   
 __  
They have more in common.  


_ You have NOTHING _

_ No connection. _

12:13 AM.  
   
   
Luhan: My friends like the drinks, they want me to get them more in the mornings

Sehunnie: my drinks are very well enticing

Sehunnie: does this mean you'll be making regular visits to the shop

Sehunnie: im flattered

Luhan: Ha~

 

"Oh hyung, I ordered us three dorisak lunch boxes and beef sandwiches." Kyungsoo says, and Luhan puts down his phone, nodding. They went on discussing future plans for VERILLI, and how Changmin wants new concepts for the new models. Chanyeol makes a joke about he should be a model for the March cover and punches Kyungsoo on the shoulder when he said no one would buy it.

"The sell rates would go down," Kyungsoo continues, rubbing his shoulder, smiling after seeing Chanyeol's pout.

The waitress comes back with their dorisaks and sandwiches, which Chanyeol eyed hungrily—he's always hungry—and reaches out for the three lunch boxes, handing them out. "The more it's shaken, the tastier it is," Chanyeol says, tapping against the metal container. "Let's have a shaking contest, the winner gets the tastiest lunch box."

Lunch had ended with Chanyeol accidentally hitting Luhan in the face with the lunch box from shaking too hard.

 

 

➳➳➳

 

 

Sehun texts him the most.

Luhan thinks it's odd, how Sehunnie only recently came to Seoul, but already found himself on the top of Luhan's kakaotalk list, and mornings consists of bubble tea runs, and staying for a few extra minutes, so he can watch Sehun doodle his infamous scribbles on the cups. And Tao would always text Luhan about how his new roommate's cleaner than him, so their dorms have been tidier.

  There're those small details picked up, like his lisp and his mischief. Unlike Jongin, who gnawed at his lips mercilessly, Sehun would stick out his tongue aimlessly, as a habit. The way he can't take too much criticism, and the way he'll only initiate conversation first when texting. Luhan notices all of this and more.

Sehun would text him silly kakaotalk stickers and Japanese emoticons, and Luhan ends up buying a few sets of stickers himself to fire back at Sehun. "Who are you texting?" Chanyeol asks from his desk in between the clicking of his keyboard. "Is it noona?"

"No, just a friend." Luhan murmurs, tapping on another set of stickers to buy.  
 

2:19 PM.  
   
Sehunnie: chocolate-hyung, be my tour guide soon

Sehunnie: I'm going to die if everyday is just studying and working (╥_╥)

Luhan: I'll take you if you stop texting me right now, I have an hour before work ends

Sehunnie: k hyung

 

But Luhan doesn't want Sehun to stop texting him, his messy Hangul and stickers were what brightens up his work hours in between the long emails and Hyunjae's daily texts that consist if asking if he had eaten yet.

Luhan pulls himself through the last hour, replying to emails and organizing his files, with the sweet taste of bubble lingering on his lips, the quiet _boing boing_ ringing in his ear; but that's just his imagination.  
 

➳➳➳

Luhan collapses onto his too expensive couch and lets out a groan as his aching back hits the leather. The cramps he gets from sitting in his desk chair are extremely overwhelming. His briefcase clutters against the floor of his quiet apartment complex, and he doesn't move to pick it up. He shuts his eyes for a brief moment, allowing his dull aches to wash away under the comfort of his couch.

Luhan didn't bother to move until half an hour later when he felt gross and sticky under his suit. He peels it off as he walks to the bathroom, vowing to pick it up afterwards. When he reached the bathroom, he was in only his pants. Wiggling out of his pants, he steps into the shower, embracing the heat and letting the steam engulf his lungs and skin.

Through the mist, he looks at the clutter of shampoo bottles, most of them being Hyunjae's. She kept some stuff here, like a toothbrush, shampoo, and a few clothes. She doesn't usually stay the night, except say for the times when she drinks with him, and she is too tired to go home, and Luhan insists that she stay in his room while he sleeps on the couch.

His eyes stung from the water, so he blindly grabs one, letting the gel of shampoo spread all over his palm before enriching itself into his hair. It wasn't even a few minutes before Luhan realizes that the shampoo smells faintly of strawberry, and it only took a few seconds for him to say fuck and glare at the strawberry shampoo bottle in distaste. He can only hope that no one gets too close to him to smell the artificial strawberry, however, knowing clingy Chanyeol; it was already a lost cause.

Luhan steps out of the shower, minding the slippery floor from the shower. His skin is flushed and red from the shower, reminding Luhan of the stupid strawberry scent. Wrapping the soft towel around his waist, he wraps it extra tightly, in fear it would slip because of his small waist, despite living alone with no one else to see if his towel slips.

True to his words, Luhan bends down to snatch up his clothes and throws them into the laundry bin as he makes a mental note as a reminder to do his laundry on Sunday. Throwing over a tee-shirt and sweatpants, he drapes the towel over his shoulder. His phone was vibrating ever since he stepped out of the shower, and to no surprise, it was all Sehun's kakaotalk.

Usually, whenever Baekhyun spammed him with photos of his dog, Luhan would get annoyed and set the chat on mute, but oddly, he didn't particularly mind Sehun's. Scrolling through the wall of endless notifications, most if not all were stickers and emoticons.

Without hesitation, he adds Sehun to the kakaotalk chat with the others and begins typing.  
 

8:24 PM.  
                                         
Luhan: Saturday at my place? Food and movies

Kriswuwu: Joonmyun and I have been meaning to watch American Sniper, lets watch that

Taobear: i like frozen

Jonginnie: i'll bring the chicken and beer~~~

Yixing~: No alcohol, Jonginnie.

Chanyeollie: yeah leave the alcohol to the adults!

Satansoo: You are literally a four-year-old in an adult body, Chanyeol, don't talk

Hyunjae: Alright :)

 

Sehun messages Luhan in their individual chat.

Sehunnie: is it ok that i come?

Luhan frowns, seeing Sehun all tentative.

Luhan: Why wouldn't it be?

Luhan leaves his ringer off, letting his friends decide what movie and food for Saturday, and slumps down in his couch, staring at the walls adorned with photographs and pinned up papers. It had always bothered Luhan of how big and empty his apartment was, and it still does. Of course, it's always lively whenever Hyunjae or his friends come over, but the joy only lasts until they leave, and the apartment complex is empty again, leaving Luhan alone with his thoughts.

Luhan moves himself to his bedroom, and the feeling of being alone settles on him and constricts his chest. Luhan curls into a fetal position, the only thing that shield him from the darkness was his thin blankets. Hyunjae had always offered to move in with him, aware of him having trouble sleeping when alone, but he says no. It wasn't fair to her.  

_ You're always alone. _

_ FEAR IT. _

It wasn't until later that Luhan falls asleep, falling asleep to the soft whispers and sounds of the TV, because he needs voices to fall asleep; voices to drown out his own.

"Chocolate-hyung, who the hell buys your ties?" Sehun stares in distaste at Luhan's tie when he walks in. "You look like a snot fest of a preppy boy in that plaid tie." Sehun pulls out a stool for Luhan, after taking many complaints that his suit has too many wrinkles when he leaves for work.

Luhan crosses his arm against the counter, staring down at his tie. There's nothing wrong with plaid, he thought. "Chanyeol and Hyunjae picks them out for me."

"Well, I question their taste," Sehun says cheekily, slipping into another stool besides him. "Let me pick out your ties in the future."

Luhan scoffs. "You'd probably get me a tie with a pattern that says fuck you fuck you fuck you, my boss wouldn't like that. Besides, I don't think plaid is bad."

"But you think chocolate is bad," mutters Sehun, and flips Luhan's tie upward, hitting the tip of his chin. Luhan ignores him, and glances at the stack of books near Sehun.

"Your studies?" Luhan nods towards the stack of books. Sehun blinks, and looks over as if surprised that Luhan noticed.

"Oh...yeah," Sehun tugs at a strand of his hair, curling it around his fingertips. "When there're no customers, I look over notes. I have to cram in my studies somehow, juggling work, school, and dance." Sehun says, but he wasn't complaining; only stating his words. Sehun runs a hand through his hair and lets the hair fall over his forehead as bangs. Luhan thinks that hair makes his sharp features softer, making Luhan want to mess up his hair just to see him squirm.

Although Luhan is sure, Sehun would do the same to him if he tried.

"I never saw you dance; I missed it two weeks ago," Luhan says, and Sehun shrugs. "You should show me soon."

He nods and scoots closer to Luhan.

Sehun yawns, and leans his head against the crook of Luhan's neck. Luhan stiffens, swallowing his breath. However, oddly enough, Sehun's head fits against Luhan's shoulder perfectly, and Luhan lets go of his stiffness, ignoring how soft his hair was against his jawline. "Chocolate-hyung..." Sehun murmurs, and sniffs. "Is that...strawberry shampoo?" There was a laugh evident in Sehun's words, making Luhan's face blossom with heat.

Luhan pushes Sehun off quickly, the little brat still snickering into his palm. "S-shut up," Luhan splutters, fixing his tie. "I accidentally grabbed my girlfriend's shampoo; I didn't know."

"Sure hyung," Sehun nods, but burst into laughs. Usually, Luhan would've hit the other person, say if it was Jongdae or Kris, but Sehun's laugh was pretty. Luhan decides that he likes his laugh because it reminds him of Kyungsoo's laugh, which could only be described as chortling.

Luhan glowers at Sehun, before glancing down at his watch, and sighing. "I should head to work soon, the same three as usual?" Sehun nods once and leaves to make the drinks. Luhan glances down at the books, and his eye catches onto a pad of sticky notes and scattered pens. Mindlessly, he peels off a sticky note and grabs a pen, and squiggles a few ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ's on it.

**Study hard, Sehunnie~~~Chocolate-hyung.**

Luhan sticks the sticky note into one of his binders and dusts off the imaginary dust off his jacket. Sehun comes back with three drinks, as always for Chanyeol, Kyungsoo, and Luhan. They were adorned with drawings again, but they all came to love them; Luhan especially.

"You're coming to my house Saturday, right?" Luhan asks, handing Sehun a 20,000 won.

"Yeah, I will," Sehun says, smiling softly as he hands back Luhan's change, which he drops into the 'TIPS' jar.

Luhan leaves for work, with his bubble tea cup that had strawberry scribbled all over it.

➳➳➳

  
 

 

 Luhan swipes through his personal email at work again, his thumb trembling slightly as his scrolls pass the only email in Mandarin. There a (2) button to the email, with his father's name staring back at him, and he exits out of the email app completely, thinking out of scenarios to which why his father would email him.

 But Luhan wouldn't dare to look; not with his own eyes.

 

.

➳➳➳

  
 

 

It was only five in the afternoon on Saturday, when the doorbell rang. Luhan wipes his hands on a cloth, hands went from washing the dishes. "Coming!" Luhan shouts, shuffling through the house with his slippers. Luhan opens the door to Sehun, in dark skinny jeans and a white tee that complimented him, along with his white cap pulled backward. "Sehunnie, come in," Luhan opens the door wider for him.

Sehun smiles sheepishly. "Am I too early?" Luhan shakes his head and pulls Sehun to the living room. There was a bowl of chips already on the table, which Luhan motions Sehun to eat.

"Nah, we can hang out for a bit before the others arrive." Luhan pulls one of his pillows into his lap, before noticing Sehun's eyes on him. "Is there...something on my face?" Luhan looks at him curiously. Sehun shakes his head and tightens his cap around his temple.

"No, just...you looked different without your suit and pulled back hair," Sehun grins and ruffled Luhan hair. "You look younger; I like it." Sehun pulls his hand away, pressing his palms against his back pocket. 

Luhan swats Sehun's arm. "Don't ruffle my hair," he whines, running a hand through it. "You don't get that special privilege."

"Oh? Who does?" Sehun rolls back on his heels, looking around Luhan's apartment.

"No one." Luhan answers playfully, throwing a pillow at Sehun, which landed in his lap. Luhan asks Sehun about his studies, and Sehun talks about how Tao grooms his stuffed panda bears every night before bed. "He says you're really neat."

Sehun shakes his head. "No, I'm just neater than him."

No matter how much they talked, Luhan feels as if Sehun's still a mysterious, and he is. The way he speaks, even with his lisp and struggle in pronouncing his S's, and how he came to Seoul. But Luhan isn't one to talk, anyways. They continued to talk about his college life, while Sehun probes questions about VERILLI, asking about hot models for the covers and the workplace.

At one point during their conversation, Sehun drapes his legs over Luhan's, fiddling with his sleeves. Luhan didn't budge but rests his arms on Sehun's legs. His legs felt light on his lap; almost as light as Hyundai when she falls asleep on him, and Luhan wouldn't dare to wake her up. 

"Have you considered any other colors rather than black and white?" Sehun jokes, motioning around at his decors and furniture. 

"They're clean colors," Luhan says, pulling down his sleeves, so it covered his hands. "Modern."

Sehun rolls his eyes and looks up at the ceiling. "You're looking for the word boring." Luhan elbows Sehun's leg, to which he squirms. The TV is playing in the background, to some sports channel; but they weren't watching.

"Your apartment just screams you," Sehun muses after a while. "Everything's so classy." Luhan frowns for a moment, his brain working gears to see if Sehun had meant it as an insult, but nothing rose.

_ And empty. _

_ Lonely. _

_ lonely lonely you are _

"I'm a classy person," Luhan retorts. "White wine is very classy." Luhan motions to his wine case, bottles as Christmas gifts from coworkers. Luhan usually takes a bottle out on rainy nights, drinking in front of a Korean drama with Chinese subtitles for the heck of it.

"And girly." Luhan swats Sehun's arm and throws another pillow at him. Sehun wraps his fingers around his wrist before Luhan can toss another pillow, and pulls it down gently. Sehun's long, milky hands rest Luhan's thigh and lingers there for too long.

Sehun pulls his hand away, and Luhan can't help but feel as if he's been deprived of warmth.

➳➳➳ 

 

 

Kyungsoo comes, hands full of junk food that Joonmyun would reprimand them for, pushes them into Luhan's hands. "Hi," Kyungsoo says, pulling off his hat and tossing it onto the rack without a miss. Luhan stares at the snacks in his arms, reading all the snacks; some of them in Japanese and the others in English. "My brother came back from Canada with a load of foreign snacks; he gave them all to me," He says, noticing Luhan's attempt at sounding out all the words on the packages. 

Sehun pokes his head out from the living room, waving lightly at Kyungsoo. "Hi, I'm Oh Sehun." He pulls out his other hand from his pocket, offering it to Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo looks taken back, but Luhan wouldn't blame him. He wasn't used to straightforwardness.

"Ah...I'm Do Kyungsoo." He extracts his hand from his back pocket and offers it to the taller one, who shakes it twice, before letting it fall limply to his sides. "Sorry we didn't meet earlier, you're the one that draws all those cute cartoons on the bubble teas, right?"

Sehun brightens up at the mention of his work, cheeks puffy from his broad smile. "Yeah, they give me something to do."

Luhan comes into the room, with bowls on top of each other, chips in the other. "You know, Luhan rinses those cups out in the bathroom and keeps them in a box in his desk, right?" Kyungsoo glances at Luhan under the untarnished bangs of his and Luhan swears he can see the glint of mischief and devilish tendencies flashing behind his doe-like eyes.

Sehun spins around on his heels, still grinning cheekily. Luhan wants to rip his cheeks off. "Hyung? Do you?" He takes a few strides closer, and pulls the bowls out of Luhan's arms, wrapping his own long arms around the plastic bowls. 

Luhan snorts but backs up. "I'm big on recycling you know? Those cups...I uh, recycle them." Luhan shoots back, and rips the top of the bag open, dumping the contents of potato chips into one of the bowls. "It'd be a waste to toss them out." Sehun shrugs and pops a chip in his mouth.

Sehun turns his back to him, focusing on the cloudy skies out above.

"Sehun-ah," Kyungsoo looks up from his phone. "Could you call Tao for me, he's not picking up." Kyungsoo frowns deepen as the call goes into voice mail. Sehun turns his head slightly and looks down at the phone, nodding; he pulls out his phone. Luhan hurls himself at the couch, his knee hitting Kyungsoo and nearly knocking his phone out of his hand. Kyungsoo glares at Luhan before pushing him off, into Sehun.

Sehun makes a noise of surprise, Luhan's head hitting his thigh. "Fuck, Kyungsoo," Luhan says, sitting up quickly. "Are you aggressive to Jongin, too?" Sehun chuckles and pats Luhan on the back, while he fixes his frazzled hair. Kyungsoo ignores him, and snatches a pillow from behind Luhan, letting him fall back.

Sehun's lips tug up in a smile, before looking around. "Were we here too early, or..." he trails off and slips his hands through his sleeves, fisting the cuffs around his hands. 

Kyungsoo shakes his head and falls back onto the leather couch. "No, everyone is always late," he says and leans his head on Luhan, who glares at him, but gives in. "I'm just here because I live nearby. What about you?" he looks over at Sehun through sleepy eyes.

"Oh...I came over from my shift from the shop." Sehun says quietly, and wraps his arms around him, rubbing up and down his arms. Luhan furrows his brows, and stands up, earning a yelp from Kyungsoo when he loses his head rest. 

"Do you want a blanket?" Luhan shuffles across the room, pulling a blanket out of a closet door. "Are you usually prone to cold weather, Sehun-ah?" Luhan walks back with two blankets, tossing the orange one at Kyungsoo, who grabs it before it hits his face. With the red one, he wraps it carefully around Sehun, tightening it around him like a cloak. 

"Thanks..." Sehun murmurs and his fingers brush against Luhan's, and he shudders. "Wow, red and orange hyung. You do have colors in your life." He jokes and wraps the blanket around him closely.  
"Don't be fooled, Sehun," Kyungsoo says under the blanket, as he wrestles with the large mass of cotton. "These are from Hyunjae, without her, I think his house and clothes would stay gray and black." To further prove his point, he motions towards the flower pots near the window sill, to which Luhan still hasn't watered them at all this week.

Luhan laughs uneasily, curling his fingers to dig the inner palm of his hands.

_ without her with her WITHOUT HER _

_ You're nothing. _

_ Stop. _

Moments later, the front door swings wide open—Luhan didn't bother to lock— and in comes Kris with his arm slinging over Joonmyun, who was sporting a less ugly sweater, but still overall pretty hideous. Joonmyun is stumbling under Kris' height and flashes everyone a smile before tripping over Kris' foot. "We've arrived!" Kris lets go of Joonmyun, saying it in both Mandarin and Korean just for the heck of it. 

Joonmyun straightens up, flattening down his gross color of red and blue on his sweater, before noticing Sehun. "Oh, hi again," he smiles. "I heard you've gotten close to Luhan already, props." Sehun smiles, seeming abashed but all the while friendly. Sehun averts his gaze and looks back at Luhan, his smile widening. 

Joonmyun stares down at the pile of junk foods on the coffee table, frowning. "This isn't healthy."

Kyungsoo scowls at him, snatching a bag off the table and popping a curly snack into his mouth, to which Joonmyun shakes his head to. Kris shoves Joonmyun playfully. "Lighten up Joonmyunnie," Kris says, pulling out three movies out of his bag. "I brought movies to choose from. If anyone of you choose Tao's Frozen movie over mine, I will shut you out of my bookstore."

His threat was a lost cause, though.

Hyunjae slips into the small space between the door and the wall, and wraps her arms around Luhan, resulting in a surprised noise from him. "Hyunjae," Luhan turns and flashes a small smile. "I thought Yixing was going to pick you up." Yixing was her neighbor on the most quiet part of Seoul. Yixing was also the one who set Luhan in front of her four years ago, whispering in his ear about how sweet and gentle Hyunjae is, and Luhan caved in, letting go of any worries. 

Hyunjae shakes her head. "Yixing's at the studio with Taemin; Taemin forgot his locker combination there." Sehun snorts, before muffling it. Hyunjae turns to him, a look of surprise and warm welcome settles on her face. "You must be Sehun from the bubble tea shop, oh, and Yixing's dance studio," she pulls Luhan's arm closer to her, wrapping her slender arms around his. "Luhan loves your drinks."

"So I heard," Sehun says, and Luhan feels his gaze on him, but Luhan focuses on the gray carpet of his living room. "And here I thought you visited me in the mornings because you enjoyed my company, but alas—bubble tea beats me."

"I do enjoy your company," Luhan argues, and Kris laughs, a mouthful of buttered popcorn, much to Joonmyun's distaste. 

➳➳➳

 

   
Luhan stares warily at his door, waiting for a noise complaint from his neighbors. 

Especially after Baekhyun and Chanyeol's arrival, bringing hoots and laughter into the apartment, Yixing, and the others trailing not far behind. Jongdae wrestles the Frozen movie out of Tao's hands, much to his protests. "We're not watching a girl running around with a snowman for two hours," Jongdae says, tossing the DVD case towards Sehun, who fumbles with it before catching it. 

"The snowman's name is—" Tao starts, but stops when seeing Jongdae's face. "Olaf." He squeaks. Tao turns his head away from Jongdae, who was still pressing his arms back, keeping him from grabbing his DVD. "Sehun-ah, help your roommate!" Tao whines.

Sehun shakes his head, slipping the DVD behind a pillow. "You watched Frozen twice last week," Sehun rubs at his eyes. "I couldn't sleep because of the noise." Tao smiles sheepishly, before giving up in defeat. Hyunjae excuses herself to go to the bathroom, and Luhan pretends he doesn't see Joonmyun's eyes trailing her. 

Luhan scoots over, closer to Sehun. "Aren't they weird?" Luhan whispers, loud enough for only Sehun, eyes following Jongin and Yixing, who's currently withholding the bottle of soju away from a petulant Jongin. "And loud." Luhan narrows his eyes at Baekhyun, who was drawing a dick on Chanyeol's neck. 

"It's a good weird," Sehun says, leaning into Luhan a little bit. "I hope I fit in." 

"You will." Luhan pats Sehun on the shoulder, who closes his eyes. "I mean, I did somehow, so you'll be fine."

_ Did you fit in? _

_ No, you will never. _

_ Yes, I do, I do. _

From the corner of Luhan's eyes, he sees Kyungsoo looking curiously at them, to which he pulls away instantly, and Sehun doesn't say anything. The feeling of being trapped to which Luhan has felt so often in college arose from his stomach, blossoming against his chest in the form of heat and sweat. He distracts himself by rubbing his palms up and down his thighs, waiting for Hyunjae to come out; waiting to feel safe. 

Hyunjae enters the room to the sight of Chanyeol drawing a vagina on Baekhyun's ear. Chanyeol stops mid-way with his drawing, and Hyunjae looks at them with an amused look. "Oh...noona," Chanyeol covers his neck, and Baekhyun covers his ear. Hyunjae laughs and dismisses them, settling right next to Luhan. Her eyes flash of urgency towards Luhan, but it's gone so quickly that Luhan thinks that he didn't see it.

"So Sehun, you study at Hongik University?" Hyunjae turns her undivided attention towards Sehun, who fiddled with the hem of his hat. "With Tao and Jongin, right?"

"Oh...yeah," Sehun nods, flashing one of his small smiles that Luhan has come to associate them with him. "I major in animation design." He says nothing further, but it was enough to have Baekhyun rip himself away from Chanyeol, plopping right next to Sehun.

"Designing?" Baekhyun's eyes flash with excitement. "I animate and draw things, too!" he pulls out his phone, scrolling through photos to show Sehun. Sehun takes the phone out of his hand, looking thoughtfully at the pictures. "Those are my recent stuff; coffee was in my veins when I drew those." He says, and Sehun laughs wholeheartedly. The feeling of possessiveness burns a greater hole than the feeling of being trapped on Luhan's chest, but quickly suppresses it.

_ Mine. _

_ But he's not. _

_ Get OUT OF MY HEAD. _

Kris claps his hands together loudly, startling a sleepy Yixing and Chanyeol, who ends up choking on the mouthful of potato chips. "Movie time, let's pick." He kicks Tao's DVD under the couch, and Tao whines. Holding up three movies, he makes a big show of presenting them. "We have the great American Sniper, the pretty cool Jurassic Park, and Maze Runner." He tosses the three DVDs onto the coffee table, atop of the candy wrappers and soju bottles. 

"You're too loud to be a bookstore owner, Kris," Jongin says, stealing a pillow off the couch and nestling his head into it. 

"At least, I give you discounts on your textbooks," Kris retorts, shutting Jongin up. 

"Raise your hands for American Sniper," Yixing says, his hand shooting up in the air, along with Hyunjae, Joonmyun, and Kris. "Maze Runner?" Baekhyun waves his arm around in the air excitedly, but to his disappointment; was the only one besides Tao. "Jurassic Park?" Luhan raises his hand, Chanyeol, Jongin, and Jongdae's hands following closely behind." Kris furrows his brows, counting.

"Tie between American Sniper and Jurassic Park," Joonmyun says and stares at Sehun with a kind smile. "Sehun-Ah, you haven't voted yet. Do you want to break the tie?" Sehun shifts uncomfortably, under all the stares, Kris with his nonchalant glance, and Chanyeol's attempt of ageyo. 

Sehun's eyes flash towards Luhan, who looks back, waiting. "I'll...go with the one Luhan chose." He says finally, and Luhan feels a flutter in his chest, before pushing Sehun on the shoulder playfully, smiling.

"Good choice," he whispers.

Hyunjae laughs, while Kris launches himself at Luhan, burying Luhan into the mass of pillows. "Hey, Luhan, you dare used notorious means on the make to get your demands, huh?" He starts tickling Luhan, who screeches out of laughter. Hyunjae, through fits of giggles, helps pull Kris off, with the help of Sehun.

➳➳➳

The bickering and chatter dies down along with the lights, Kris inserting the DVD into the player, fumbling with the tiny remote which were too small for his large hands. Hyunjae leans her head on Luhan's shoulders. He lets her. Her hair's soft against the bare skin of his neck, smelling faintly of strawberries. Luhan suddenly feels at ease, falling back into the comfort that is full of Hyunjae; the safety net that she is wraps around him, against flushed skin.

Kris sprawls across the ground next to Joonmyun and Tao, who is already giving up on the idea of watching Frozen with everyone, and decides to eat all the pretzels in the bowl. Chanyeol joins Baekhyun on the couch, pinching him on the vagina-drawn ear of his. 

"I never did anything like this back...back at my home," Sehun says in a hushed voice, in the first ten minutes of the movie. "Hanging out weekly with friends." 

Luhan doesn't take his eyes off the screen, but smiles and pats Sehun on the arm. "This can be your home now, Seoul, I mean." Luhan pauses, pressing a popcorn through the silt of his lips. "It's mine now, it took awhile, but it is now."

"Can I really call this home," Sehun looks around, at all of them sprawled across the floor in masses of pillows and blankets. "With all of you?" Luhan finally turns to look at him, and sees the worry etched into the milky skin of his, wisps of his dark hair fall past his forehead. 

"You're already my friend," Luhan says, still whispering, despite Hyunjae being unwitting, her attention on the movie, and Sehun and his voice being already muffled by the movie. "Don't worry." Sehun grips Luhan's hand, and it lingers, too. Luhan grips back, and it feels natural. Luhan passes the bowl of popcorn to him, who took a handful before handing it off to greedy Baekhyun and Chanyeol. 

They watch the movie, and Saturdays like this reminds Luhan of high school and bits of college, where they would crash at one another place, wrestling for the remote, the feminine laughter of one of their old girlfriends. There's not much chatter, except for the occasional bark of laughter from Chanyeol, or Hyunjae's yelp when it gets too loud. And when she gets surprise, Joonmyun's glance doesn't go unnoticed by Luhan, who digs his fingers into the couch, pretending not to see.

In the middle of the movie, Sehun shifts his legs around, his ankle touching Luhan's wrist, the bare skin on skin leaving Luhan tingly. Sehun blinks through heavy eyelids, the sleep arousing around him, leaving Sehun's body slumping against the back of the couch. Without thought, Luhan presses Sehun's head against his shoulder; Hyunjae on his left, munching through her popcorn. I'm just being a good hyung, he says to himself, ignoring the weight of Sehun's head, ignoring Hyunjae's, too. 

Towards the end of the movie, no one was really paying attention. Baekhyun is tangled in a bundle of blankets, his face flushed red from the soju; his drunkenness measuring in the three soju bottles scattered around him. Chanyeol is eyeing him warily, clutching the paper cup full of soju that he snatched from Baekhyun. "Enough Baekhyunnie," Chanyeol says, raising the cup up further, away from his reach. "Tomorrow is Sunday, you know, when your brother visits?" Baekhyun swears, his words slurring and soaking in liquor. Jongin stares at the drunkard, eyes flashing with jealousy.

"Yixing-hyung has been withholding every liquor from me," Jongin mutters begrudgingly, earning a look from Yixing. "It's been three weeks, hyung! The recital isn't even until a few weeks from now!" Jongin thrashes around, hitting Tao in the process. 

"Yixing is being a good teacher," Hyunjae pipes up, removing herself from Luhan's shoulder, and rolling her neck around. "No alcohol in your system, Jonginnie."

"But Hyunjae—"

"You don't see Sehun and Taemin drinking," Jongdae says, raising an eyebrow as he swipes up a few wrappers, tossing them into the trash bin next to the TV. He points to Sehun, who was half-asleep, still on Luhan's shoulder. "Look at him, being a good kid." Sehun looks up through his bangs, rubbing his arm.

"Jongdae-hyung, you're not that much older than me," he says groggily, nestling his head closer to Luhan, and Luhan gulps, smelling the faint cologne of his. Hyunjae looks at the two, and Luhan avoids her eyes, looking at the crumbled crackers on the table instead.

"Look at you, you're acting like a good hyung," Hyunjae says, pinching Luhan's cheeks. Luhan swats her hand away gently, not moving his head, so Sehun could rest.

"Looks like Luhan has a soft spot for Sehunnie," Joonmyun gives a broad smile, while patting a grumpy Jongin on the back. "Must be all those bubble tea getting to his head." Luhan, however, does grab a pillow to hurl at Joonmyun's head, earning a chuckle from Sehun.

Chanyeol pulls Baekhyun up, and he thrashes around, muttering swears and incoherent words. "Heechul will get his damn drawings!" he shouts, kicking at the air. "I refuse to live on coffee, I refuse!" Sehun is fully awake now, and stares bemused at drunk Baekhyun.

Sehun sits up, scooting a little bit away from Luhan, giving him space. "Who's Heechul?" 

"His boss," Kris says, patting off imaginary dust off his jeans. "He's working on a big project with people, art something."

"Heechul will get it, I swear," Baekhyun mutters dangerously, but it's rather cute, especially with his hiccups and flushed face. There's a stain on Baekhyun's shirt—seemingly from soju—and Luhan snorts, already seeing a regretful Baekhyun scrubbing his shirt in the sink.

Joonmyun leaves with Kris, giving goodbyes and such before shutting the door. Baekhyun, half-asleep already, wraps his arms around Chanyeol, who, with a gruff, proceeds to carry him out, saying a goodbye muffled under Baekhyun's arms. Yixing stands up, his dress shirt all crinkled. "Hyunjae, are you staying or?" Yixing pulls Jongin up from his seat, motioning him to put on his shoes.

"I'll stay the night," Hyunjae turns to Luhan with sleepy eyes. "Is that alright?" Luhan nods, and starts to pick up everything off the ground. Sehun follows, reaching out to grab the wrappers, but Luhan stops him. 

"It's alright, I'll clean," Luhan says, taking the wrapper away from him. "You should get home with Tao, I think he's really drunk right now," Luhan nods in Tao's general direction, who's already knocked out cold. Sehun makes a face, but nonetheless, takes Tao's jacket off the rack and wrapping it around Tao's shoulder, pulling him up by the waist. 

"He's going to regret it in the morning," Sehun grumbles, voice strained from Tao's weight on his shoulders. "And I'll have to handle that." Flashing a tired smile towards Hyunjae and Luhan, he heads out the door with a goodnight. Luhan looks around, realizing that Jongdae must have already left, possibly in the mist of chaos of drunkards and grumbling Jongins. 

The apartment's left empty to his own thoughts, Hyunjae, and the trash scattered around in the night that rings eleven o'clock. "You should go to sleep now, Hyunjae," Luhan says, throwing the plastic wrappers and emptied bag of chips into the trash bin. "I'll clean up." Luhan turns his head to smile gently at Hyunjae. She looks at him through groggy eyes, but the sharpness of her mouth doesn't change.

"Luhan," she says quietly. "How are you these days?" 

Luhan grips the bin tightly in his hands. 

"I'm doing great," Luhan says airily, but the whites of his knuckles sings a different tone. "I still...I still am doing fine, the same, Hyunjae."

"I went into the bathroom earlier," Hyunjae stands up, wrapping herself in her arms. "You don't take your medications anymore, Luhan." She furrows her brows, a frown tugging at the edges of her lips. She pulls the trash bin away from his hands, leaving Luhan nothing to clutch onto, instead curling the callous of his fingers to dig into his palm. Hyunjae slips her hand into his, prying his fingers away from his palm. 

"I don't need them anymore, Hyunjae." Luhan pulls his hand away from hers, leaving her hand hanging in the air. "I am really happy, I am successful, I'm in a relationship, I have friends, I..." Luhan cuts himself off, realizing his voice was strained, and takes the trash bin from her. "Your clothes are in the drawer, use the shower before me if you want, I'll take some time cleaning."

"I can clean, I'll help."

"No, it's fine."  
NOT FINE not FiNE

_I'm not fine._

_GET OUT OF HERE, I DON'T NEED THIS_

Hyunjae looks at Luhan tiredly, before slouching her shoulders, and disappears behind the shadows of the corridor that leads to the bathroom. Luhan has already stuffed all the trash into the bin, compact into a block of wrappers and tissues. Plucking the soju bottles off the ground, he places them in the recycling bin, vowing to take it out before the trash comes. Shuffling to the kitchen, he splashes water onto his face, squinting as some got into his eye. His head instantly relaxes, and the whites of his knuckles are gone. 

The energy seems to slip away from his skin, and the only thing he sees through the sleep of his eyes, is the red material of Sehun's cap, crammed in between the couch pillows.

 

Luhan scribbles a note in messy Hangul, sticking it to the fridge, knowing Hyunjae will see it when she gets her breakfast. Luhan had gingerly draped another blanket over her, leaving her in two layers of blankets; just for safe measures. Pulling his scarf around his neck tightly, he slips into his shoes, before shutting the door. He's decked in warmer clothes than usual, knowing full well how easily the brisk air can cause him to catch a cold quickly. 

It is Sunday, the streets of Seoul has people walking with their children, and grumpy store owners flipping the open sign on their doors. A church bell rings, kids rushing up the steps with stubby feet, dressed in formal clothes; their families trailing not too far behind. Luhan avoids the puddle on the sidewalk, wondering if it had rained last night. 

Slipping into his car, he drives to Hongdae, Sehun's cap in the passenger seat. 

➳➳➳

 

The woman at the desk gives Luhan an odd look before he slips in a sweet smile and his ID. His inner him cringes; it's certainly early; too early for someone to visit a student dorm. Handing him a pass, Luhan bows his head, before pressing the UP button on the elevator, the red cap in his clutch; the only color that stands out against his gray coat and charcoal scarf.

Luhan has visited Tao's dorm several times, Hansol always answering the door because Tao was too busy taking pictures of himself, and deleting them afterward. He'd come with a bento box wrapped up, from either Jongdae or Kyungsoo—because God knows Tao cannot cook, and Hansol could only do so much. But this time, Luhan doesn't come with food, but only Sehun's hat and a grip so strong that he feels as if he can tear the material of the cap apart. 

Folding his hand into a fist, he knocks on the door, once, twice. Three times for the charm. Luhan rolls back on his heels, whistling as he loosens his hold on the cap, letting it hang off his finger on the strap. The door swings wide up, and Luhan nearly falls backward. Instead, he only stumbles.

"Chocolate-hyung?" Sehun, in pajamas and a mass of messy hair, greets Luhan. "What are you...I mean, good morning," Sehun motions Luhan to come in. Luhan splutters and pushes the red cap into Sehun's grasps.

"I only came to uh, drop by the hat?" It turns into a question by accident, and Luhan cringes on the outside, which does not go unnoticed by Sehun.

"Oh," Sehun ruffles his own hair, a mask of disappointment takes over. "Do you have to go somewhere?"

"I uh, no." Luhan admits, and Sehun looks pleased. He leans against his door, his slim fingers lining the rim of his cap, mouthing thanks.

"You should stay," Sehun motions to the back. "Tao is crying over his hangover; I told him so." Sehun tosses his hat onto a chair nearby, and pulls Luhan into the room by the wrist, and Luhan likes how Sehun's hand fits over Luhan's. Luhan gets a bit closer, eyes squinting at Sehun's face.

"You have freckles?" Luhan pulls up a free hand to poke at them. "How come I never saw them?"

Sehun moves his face away from Luhan's touch. "I hide them with BB cream, I don't like them," Sehun mutters in embarrassment. 

Thoughtlessly, Luhan says, "I think they're cute." Sehun's grip on Luhan tightens for a second, before letting ago, pointing at a frazzled Tao, imprisoned in his bed sheets.

There's a small tray next to Tao on the table, a bowl of broth and small splashes of soup surrounding the end as proof of Tao's struggle. Sehun rubs his eyes, and Luhan stares in awe at his freckles, feeling as if the freckles would accidentally smudge if Sehun kept rubbing at them. "Tao has a hell of a hangover, and he won't eat anything I give him." Sehun nudges Tao's leg with his bare foot, who whines and buries himself further in the mass of blankets.

"Hyung," Tao's voice is muffled. "Who let me drank last night?" Tao asks in Mandarin, and Luhan groans. Knowing Tao, he only switches to Mandarin when his brain is all too guttered up to speak in Korean. 

Sehun looks confused. "I distinctly remember Jongdae trying to take the bottle away from you," Luhan replies in Mandarin. "Don't pin this on anyone else." Luhan grips the ends of the blanket and rips it away from Tao. He shrieks from the sudden loss of warmth and curls in a fetal position. 

"Tao," Sehun crouches down, his chin resting on the edge of the bed. "You need to drink at least some water." Tao looks through one opened eye, and growls. 

"No."

Sehun sighs, clearly exasperated. "I've been up since five trying to get him to stop crying about his hangover," he runs a hand through his untouched hair, "honestly, how do you guys handle his hangovers—does he usually get drunk?" Sehun looks at Luhan incredulously, and Luhan could see the same horror presented in Hansol when Tao had his first break up, and bonded with several bottles of soju. 

Luhan pulls out his phone, immediately texting Jongdae. "It's alright, Jongdae always has his soup; he'll bring some over to Tao." Tao makes a sound of relief, before cuddling his nose into a stuffed panda bear. Sehun, comfort by the fact that Jongdae's soup will appease a petulant Tao, slumps down in his desk chair. 

"Well, I can't go back to sleep," Sehun mutters, rubbing his cheek. "I'm fully awake, unfortunately." Luhan looks at the clock on the desk. 7:03 AM. Stuffing his hands in his back pocket, Luhan looks around the dorm, his eyes landing on what appears to be Sehun's desk. 

"Oh, hey," Luhan points at the sticky note on the wall. "I wrote that, in your book." Sehun raises an eyebrow, staring at the sticky note. 

**Study hard, Sehunnie~~~Chocolate-hyung**

"Ah, right," Sehun murmurs, heat rising to his cheeks. "I could always use more motivation; that sticky note is nice for that." Luhan grins, and ruffles up Sehun's hair, dodging Sehun's hand as he tries to get back at him. Luhan's phone rings with a notification from Jongdae. 

"Sehunnie," Luhan says, after quickly replying to Jongdae. "You sure you're all wide awake?" Sehun looks bemused, but nods slowly. "Want to go to Seoul today? See Namsan tower, eat some street food, get you familiar with your new home?" Luhan asks, his pitch of voice rising slightly, waiting for Sehun to process the question.

"Really?" Sehun asks carefully. "I mean, you have work tomorrow, and...I don't...I don't want to take up much of your time." 

Luhan snorts. "Shut up, Sehunnie. Let's go Seoul exploring." He turns his head to look at Tao. "After Jongdae comes with the soup, we'll go anywhere you want." There was a slight burst of energy in Luhan; an energy that wasn't present in him earlier when he left the house. Sehun looks over at Tao, who rolls over to look at them with a half-assed smile.

"Sehun-ah, go, I'll be fine," Tao rubs at his panda eyes. "It's not every day that Luhan wants to do something." 

➳➳➳

  
 

 

Jongdae crams himself into the dorm, gingerly carrying a wrapped up bowl of soup. He stops at the door, kicking off his sneakers before setting it on the table scattered with books and papers. "Hey, Tao!" Jongdae shouts, before lowering his voice after receiving a look from Luhan. "I rushed over here, left the restaurant to Jongin,"—he cringes—"probably a bad idea."

Jongdae looks down at Tao. "If you're going to be like this every time you get a hangover—just stick to apple juice." He lifts Tao's pillow up, fluffing it. Turning to Luhan and Sehun, he says, "You two are heading somewhere, right? I'll take Tao to the shop, have him snore his hangovers away in the break room." 

"I'll wash up really quick," Sehun says, pulling some clothes out of his closet. "You can uh, sit with Tao, excuse the mess." Sehun hops to the bathroom, nearly tripping as he pulls off the one sock on his foot. 

Luhan looks around. "What mess?" he mutters. Pulling off his jacket, he sits on Sehun's bed, dipping the mattress. Jongdae, pulling Tao up, pressing a spoonful of soup to his lips. Tao fusses at first, but takes the spoon quietly, the tension in his forehead releasing as he gulps it. 

"Where are you two going?" Jongdae looks over at Luhan. "Seoul touring?" Luhan nods. Jongdae nods and puts the bowl of soup in Tao's hand. "You had always loved Seoul when you got here."

"It was different from Beijing." Luhan tosses his head back, blowing at his curls. "Different people, it was a subtle change."

_ Good different. _

_ But nothing changes. _

_ Too pretty. _

Jongdae doesn't say anything else, too busy chiding Tao about his low alcohol tolerance. Luhan turns his gaze, letting his eyes travel around the room. It's a typical dorm room; books stacked on top of each other, sticky notes poorly stuck on the wood of the desks, in messy hangul or numbers. It's obvious as to which desk is Tao's, and which is Sehun's. Tao's, which is cluttered with perfume samples and miniature panda bear statues, along with a notebook that ranges from Korean, Mandarin, and English. However, Sehun's desk resembles a cleaner version of Tao's, say minus the panda bears and perfume. There's Luhan's sticky note, and a stack of envelopes, resealed and stuck under the small space between the desk lamp and the wall. His books are organized by size, held up by a book holder. Luhan's not the slightest bit surprise at little cartoon doodles on his notebooks. 

There's a ghost of a smile, playing on Luhan's lips. Sehun's desk reminds Luhan so much of Sehun himself, from the neatness to the childish doodles of space rockets and weird creatures with ramyun for hands. 

Luhan wonders if there's anything in his own home that is him.

Sehun stumbles out of the bathroom, hair still damps, some drops of water landing on his clothed shoulders. "Did I keep you waiting?" Sehun asks, ruffling his hair with a towel. "Sorry."

"No, you didn't." Luhan stands up, still shorter than Sehun. "You're not going to leave with wet hair, are you?"

"I don't see a problem," Sehun replies, tossing his towel onto the chair. Luhan notices that he doesn't have BB cream on, his skin naked, sporting only a few water droplets and his bare freckles. 

Luhan clicks his tongue, a hint of an upcoming chastise. "You're going to get sick," Luhan says flatly, picking up the towel and throwing it at Sehun's chest, who fumbles with it. "Dry your hair with a blow-dryer, I'm not going to have you die on me while we're touring."

"You drama queen, I'm not going to die if I get a little head cold." Sehun says, but there's no negativity in his voice. 

"Luhan is just worry," Jongdae pipes from up from his seat, still watching Tao eat the soup. "Luhan himself gets sick very easily, so a head cold is a big red zone for him." Luhan sneers at Jongdae but makes no comment. 

"Do you really get sick that easily, hyung?" Sehun looks down at Luhan, who pouts out his lips.

"Just a weaker immune system, that's all," Luhan says nonchalantly. "Nothing serious, just why I wear a lot of layers." Sehun nods slowly before pushed out of the room by Luhan into the bathroom. "Now dry your hair, risk taker."

➳➳➳

 

It's chillier than when Luhan left home. His phone rings with a text message from Hyunjae, saying thank you and that she's going home. Sehun's hair is dry, tucked in under the red of his cap. Sehun had thrown a hat on Luhan, taking Jongdae's comment way too seriously. However, Luhan makes no protest, letting Sehun hide his ears with the flaps of the soft hat—that smells faintly of spice. 

"Let's stop by the bubble tea shop," Sehun says, grinning. "Ten works there on Sundays, I want to annoy the little brat." Luhan doesn't say anything but makes a sound of agreement, unlocking his car and slipping into the driver's seat. 

The drive is quiet, Sehun looking at the bustle of people, some of them drinking coffee outside of small shops, the younger ones lining up for the sweet pancakes in the morning at one of the bakeries. Hongdae is a lot different during the day then it is at night. To Luhan, Hongdae at night meant clubs and drinking. Hongdae in the morning meant going over to Hongik University to visit Jongin and Tao during finals week. 

But now, Hongdae in the mornings meant Sehun with freckles and quiet drives. 

The bubble tea shop has only two people, a couple in the back sharing a large cup of tea. Sehun pushes the door wide open, holding it for Luhan, who murmurs thanks, before pulling off his hat, remembering how hot it is in the shop. Ten looks up at the sound of the door opening, startled to see Sehun. "Sehun-ah," Ten squeaks, his accent thick of what Luhan pinpoints as Thai. "Did you decide to come for an extra shift on Sunday?" He jokes and then waves a jaunty wave to Luhan. 

"Hah, funny." Sehun deadpans, snatching Ten's hat off his head, to ruffle up his hair. Ten scowls at Sehun, groping for his hat back. "I want a double extreme chocolate bubble tea, and," Sehun looks over at Luhan, who shrugs. "Get him your special." 

"You work here, Sehun." Ten watches Sehun through mocking eyes. "Make it."

Sehun shakes a finger at Ten. "No no, that's not how you treat your customers." Ten sticks his tongue out, and disappears into the back of the room, hollering about chocolate and his special. Sehun pulls out the stools again, sitting at the counter. "Where are you taking me, by the way?" Sehun asks, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles. "You're not kidnapping me right?"

"I wouldn't want to kidnap you," Luhan replies. "It's a secret, but I'm taking you to Namsan Tower at night, it's much prettier, but maybe we should snag breakfast at Jongdae's after bubble tea, things are much more fun when you're running on a full stomach." Sehun nods, and listens as Luhan talks about how great Jongdae's cooking is, and how Kyungsoo should've been a chef. 

"When did you move to Korea, chocolate-hyung?" Sehun asks, after Luhan mentions of when he first meant Jongdae, who was trying to sneak a can of beer behind the school building in freshman year, but had spilled it, startled by Luhan. 

"Nine years ago, freshman year," Luhan says easily, remembering the grim first years of trying to learn Korean. It had torture him, prying his already little sleep away from his hands, replacing them with textbooks on Hangul and such. His aunt helped, but it had been his school friends that influenced his Korean the most.

He grips the sleeves of his jacket, his knuckles whitening again. 

"I heard through the door that you were from Beijing, I wasn't eavesdropping, I swear." Sehun gives a boyish grin, before Ten bursts through the door, with two cups of bubble tea. 

"One chocolate for the future diabetic and one Ten special for the smarter one," Ten snickers as Sehun gives him a glare. 

"I'm not going to be diabetic from a few chocolate bubble tea."

"I'm surprised it's not running through your veins by now," Ten fires back, and Luhan grins. Ten pushes his special towards Luhan, nodding his head vigorously. "Where are you two going?"

"I'm taking him around Seoul," Luhan answers, stabbing a straw through the plastic film of the cup. Ten looks dubious, glancing over at Sehun.

"What are you looking at, brat?" Sehun flicks Ten on the cheek, who yelps, earning a curious glance from the couple in the back.

"When I offered to take you around, you said no," Ten rubs his cheek, turning his attention back to Luhan. "You're the one that stops by every morning, right, always ordering Sehun's special?" Luhan nods and buries his lower lip in the hem of his scarf. Ten smirks over at Sehun, who scowls. 

"We're leaving, we're not enjoying your company," Sehun says loudly, shoving Ten on the shoulder playfully. Sehun slips his arm through Luhan's, startling him. Ten shouts a goodbye as the door slams shut behind him. "Ten is weird, but he was the first friend I made here," Sehun frowns and takes the hat away from Luhan, slipping it over Luhan's head, making sure his ears are covered, his thumbs brushing up against Luhan's temple, and Luhan shivers. "You cold?"

"Uh, yeah, a little." Luhan lies.

_ keep lying to yourself. _

_ get out of my head. _

"Should I buy a hot pack for you...there's a little drugstore across the street, I can buy like three or ten—"

"No," Luhan says firmly. "I'm taking care of you today, and you took Jongdae's comment too seriously, I just have a weaker immune system, I'm not terminally ill." Sehun pauses but nods an okay. But it doesn't stop Sehun from wrapping an arm around Luhan, rubbing his arm up and down, converting warmth to Luhan. Luhan leans into his warmth, before getting into the car, careful not to spill their drinks. "What do you like to eat? Jongdae has a variety of food on his menu." 

Sehun shrugs half halfheartedly, biting down on his straw. "I'm not a picky eater," says Sehun. Luhan hums and starts the car, pushing his drink down in the too-small cup holder. It's already eight o'clock, and this time, the car ride isn't as quiet. "Are we really spending the whole day together?"

"I plan so," Luhan says, taking a second to glance at Sehun. "Is there a problem with spending the day with me?" Luhan frowns, disappointment blooming in his chest. He likes Sehun; he's likable. Anxiety washes over Luhan; a feeling he has associated with Beijing. Sehun's eyes widen, before shaking his head quickly, spluttering. 

"No, no, that's not it." Sehun clutches his chocolate bubble tea. "Honestly, I look forward to whenever you come to the shop, just I hope this isn't a burden...taking a college student around like a babysitter." Luhan looks over again, eyebrow raised. Sehun's neck is exposed, and it's red at the back of his neck. Luhan laughs, a real laugh, too. 

"Are you embarrassed?" Luhan teases, poking at Sehun. "How cute." Sehun looks away. 

"Stop it hyung," Sehun whines, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"It's not a burden, stop thinking that."

"Okay."

"I'm serious."

They don't play music in the car, due to Sehun teasing Luhan about his old taste in music, earning him a swat on the arm. Instead, Sehun points at all the people walking around, and slurping loudly on his tea, purposely irritating Luhan. Sehun holds the drink up for Luhan, who has two hands on the wheel. Sehun pushes the drink a little bit too far, and Luhan chokes a little bit, earning a snicker from Sehun. 

"When we get to the restaurant, I'm asking Jongdae to slip poison into your food," Luhan says flatly, wiping the corners of his lips. Sehun laughs; the same laugh that Luhan decided that he liked when he was in the shop. 

➳➳➳

"You two again," Jongdae grins, wiping his hands on his apron. "Tao's dead asleep in the break room, did you come to eat, or to visit my beautiful face?" Jongdae makes a show by rubbing his chin with his hand. Sehun smiles again, and Luhan scoffs. 

"You have a face only your mother can love." Jongin pipes up, appearing right next to Jongdae. "Your perm may have lost that love, though, and hi Sehunnie, and hyung."

"I'll fire you," Jongdae threatens, and Jongin mocks with a show of heart, and Jongin leads them to a table in the far back. The two slump into the seat, already peeling off their jackets, but Luhan keeps on his scarf. "It's almost as if every time I see Luhan-hyung, it's with Sehunnie." Jongin jokes, flipping out a notepad and a pen. 

Luhan shrugs and Sehun slurps the last bit of his tea. They flip through the menu, but Luhan has the entire menu memorized. "I'll go for Jajangmyeon," he closes the menu and hands it to Jongin. "Do you see anything you like, Sehunnie?"

Sehun blinks at the various number of options. "I...I'll take japchae." Sehun hands the menu to Jongin sheepishly, and Jongin rushes off to the kitchen. "It was really good when you came with Jongdae to the dance studio. 

Luhan nods, remembering Sehun coming late. "How's the dancing going, by the way?" Sehun's eyes light up, seeming much more alert and bright. Luhan bites back a laugh, familiar with the look present in Yixing, Taemin, and Jongin whenever asked about their upcoming dances. 

"It's going great, the recital is soon, I'm so grateful Yixing-hyung placed me in at short notice," Sehun explains, tapping on the wood of the table. "Are you...you're going to the recital, right?" 

"I always go," Luhan says with a soft smile, and it's true. He had gone to Yixing's before he became a dance teacher, and he went to Jongin and Taemin's as the years went on. "I won't miss it." Sehun chuckles, crinkling the plastic of his empty cup. Sehun falls back onto the cushion of his seat, humming to a song that Luhan can only assume as their dance song. His eyes are closed, and Luhan finds himself staring at Sehun like he did in the bar a few weeks ago. His eyes find the slope of his nose, of how smooth it was; the arch of the cupid's bow that serves as a path to his upper lip, that seems so soft. His lower lip, though, was dry and swollen, clearly chewed on. 

There's also the arch of his eyebrows, his brow bone noticeable and sharp, the scattered freckles that line his nose and cheek. Sehun's eyes flutters open, and Luhan tears his eyes away, opting to stare at the wall instead until Jongdae comes back with hot tea and side dishes. "So where are you taking him, Luhan-hyung?" Luhan murmurs something about Namsan and Yeouido Park while slipping chopsticks out of its packet, picking at the kimchi. 

"Ohh, fancy." Jongdae slips the tray under his arm. "You'll enjoy Seoul; it should be a nice change from wherever you're from." Jongdae leaves, and it takes every fiber in Luhan to not ask where he came from. 

"I still haven't told you, huh." Sehun says quietly, focusing on the tea pouring into his cup, and proceeds to pour one for Luhan, and they both stare at the steam that rises from the cup; because it's better than staring at each other. 

"It's alright," Luhan says, blowing on his hot tea. Luhan's naturally curious, but he holds himself back, not wanting to place Sehun in an uncomfortable position. "You don't have to tell me."

"Daegu."

"Or you can tell me, that's cool, too."

Sehun sighs, but seems relieved, picking at the kimchi on his plate, before biting a piece off. 

"Daegu, I grew up there," Sehun continues, after swallowing. "But, I wanted a fresher air."

Luhan nods, remembering the feeling of wanting something more, the feeling that choked him when he was packing his stuff into his suitcase in Beijing. "Seoul is the place; though the air isn't exactly fresh," Luhan jokes, and Sehun laughs weakly. 

"I needed a louder city, to keep me busy," Sehun says, and he isn't so tense. Luhan digests Sehun's words. A louder city, he thinks. 

_ It's not loud enough for me. _

_ You can't drown it out, pretty boy. _

_ Go away. _

Jongin comes to their table in ten minutes, placing the dishes carefully. "Enjoy, and don't lose Sehun in Seoul," Jongin says and leaves in a snicker.

"I'm not a puppy." Sehun says to no one, but he seems a bit happier than he was before. 

"Ignore Jongin, I usually do." 

They pick up their noodles, Luhan, careful not to drip any sauce on his clothes. Sehun notices his cautiousness and offers a wad of napkins to him, to which Luhan gratefully accepts. "So, tell me about your girlfriend, Hyunjae, I've seen her a couple of times."

"We met four years ago, thanks to Yixing." Luhan answers. "She's a florist, always insisting on turning my apartment into an indoor garden." He grumbles, and it's true. Hyunjae often comes with flower pots, and smiles, placing them at the window, only to have Luhan, not water them. 

"Your place could use some colors, though," Sehun says, picking up a piece of beef. "Other than gray, white, and black."

"Those are modern colors."

" _Boring_ , colors."

Luhan groans into his food. "You sound like Chanyeol; he once bought blue paint over, threatening to paint my walls." Sehun laughs loudly; that mixes in well with the morning chatter in the restaurant. 

"How did you stop him?"

"I called Kyungsoo."

They enjoy each others company for the remainder of the meal, in the midst of loud noises on the busy Sunday morning. It's not much, but at that moment, Luhan doesn't feel like a stranger in his skin, and he feels younger; as if he doesn't work at VERILLI as if he doesn't need medications to stay here. He feels like a high schooler again, flicking food at each other, pieces of rice landing on one another shirts. In all that, Luhan can't ignore the realization of how Sehun's presence scares away most of the voices in his head, and Luhan feels at peace, soaking in the momentary serenity. 

➳➳➳

 

"I'm completely stuffed," Sehun announces, making sure Luhan's hat covers his ear, for the third time. Luhan's stomach churns at Sehun's touch again, doing a flip that isn't helping. It's an all too familiar touch; touches that don't belong to his, but he says nothing. 

"We'll burn it all off from all the walking," Luhan says, pulling his seatbelt around him. It's already 9:37 AM and Luhan has a plan of what they'll do in his head. "You've never been to Myeongdong, right?" Sehun shakes his head, leaning against the window, his hot breath creating fog on the glass. "It's kind of like Hongdae, it's a shopping district, it's fun."

"You know what fun is?" Sehun asks cheekily, creating more fog on the glass. 

"You're too cheeky to your hyung," Luhan mutters. For payback, Luhan turns on his 'old as hell music' loudly, but not loud enough to drown out Sehun's groans. 

➳➳➳

 

Myeongdong isn't as busy as it is at night, but that's not to say there weren't already a lot of people. Sehun looks around, overwhelmed, and Luhan slips his fingers around him, pulling him away so he wouldn't get lost. "I thought we'd visit Myeongdong first, because trust me, it is much more crowded later on in the day." Sehun makes no protest but grips tightly at Luhan's hand. 

"Yeah, Seoul is louder," Sehun says, grinning a floppy smile, eyes racing around, trying to absorb everything at once. Sehun stares in awe at the small shops and street food vendors. 

"Anywhere you want to see, any shops?" Luhan asks over his shoulder, trying to weave through some people while breathing out a couple 'excuse me' and 'pardon me.' Without hesitation, Sehun points eagerly at the manhwa shop across the street. Just like Baekhyun, Luhan thinks but lets Sehun pull the two of them into the shop.

To say Sehun was excited is an understatement. His eyes gleam at the mass of shelves loaded with manwha, some organized while some remained cluttered on top of each other. Luhan found it so adorable; he couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. Without letting go of Luhan's hand, he rushes over to the back of the shop, to a particular section, Luhan nearly stumbling over.

"I've been looking for this!" Sehun exclaims eagerly, grabbing a book off the shelf. "Tao took me to a comic shop in Hongdae, but there wasn't any." Sehun picks up a few more volumes, before fumbling with his wallet.

Luhan smiles endearingly at the sight of an excited Sehun and pushes his wallet down. "My treat," and Luhan tries to grab the manwha books away from Sehun, but Sehun pulls them away, higher—purposely mocking Luhan's height.

"They're for me, so I should pay."

"No, I insist," Luhan urges, but Sehun shakes his head. Glaring, Luhan jabs at Sehun's sides, which were exposed, and he yelps, lowering the books low enough for Luhan to snatch and rush to the counter. Sehun shouts after him, not too loud, though because they're indoors.

"I'd like to pay for these, please," Luhan switches to formal Korean, plastering a sweet smile on his face, Sehun is by his side in an instance. 

"No, take my card," Sehun takes out his wallet again, pushing the card towards the teenager working the cashier, she doesn't look amused at all, her fingers tapping against the sides of the machine impatiently. 

"Don't take his card," and Luhan snatches Sehun's card and hides it behind him, replacing it with his own card. "Quickly, please." The girl, eyeing them both warily, takes Luhan's card and swiping it. Sehun stares incredulously at Luhan, who looks back triumphantly as the girl hands back his card. Luhan gives back Sehun's card that he was hiding, and Sehun stares down at it. 

Sehun pouts, as the girl hands the bag to them. "Let me pay you back, hyung," Sehun insists, but Luhan shakes his head. Sighing, Sehun pulls Luhan closer to him, and startled, Luhan nearly trips over the sidewalk. "Thank you, hyung." Sehun's voice is quieter, and squeezes him, before letting him go.

Luhan feels cold when his arms drop but doesn't say anything, except for a, "No problem, Sehunnie." 

They walk around for about an hour, glancing through windows of shops, and pointing out funny objects they find in stores. Luhan notices how easily Sehun laughs or smiles, even if it's at a dog or a funny poster he sees through the window. It's endearing, Luhan thinks. Sehun looks over at Luhan when they sit down on an empty bench. "Are you cold?" Sehun asks seriously, as the wind picks up the brisk air and hurls it. It's a lot chillier this fall than last year, and it's most definitely going to have a toll on Luhan one of these days.

"I'm fine, don't worry," Luhan reassures him, for the billionth time. Sehun frowns, but pulls out a pair of gloves from his pocket, tossing them onto Luhan's lap.

"I brought them, just in case," Sehun says, swinging the bag of manwha in between his legs, whistling. "Wear them." 

Luhan doesn't protest as he slips them on, and they were only a bit too big on his hands, he clenches and unclenches his hands, letting the cold melt away on his fingers, the soft cotton wrapped around his palms satisfying his chill. It was usually Joonmyun who scolds him for forgetting his hat or gloves, always eyeing Luhan through dubious eyes when Luhan says it wasn't cold. Then Hyunjae took over; always extra hot packs in her purse. 

"It's going to be a pain to keep you well in winter," Sehun jokes, and Luhan says nothing. Winter, he thinks. He wonders if Sehun will still be there by his stand by then, or will Sehun get too busy with college and dance, and Luhan is piled up with work? Luhan shakes this thought away, reminding himself of Taemin and Jongin, how nothing changed for them.

Luhan stands up and taps Sehun on the shoulder through gloved hands. "Let's go, we have much to do, we're probably only going to scratch the surface here, but that's alright." Luhan helps Sehun up, and the streets get busier and louder. "Kris' bookstore is here."

"Oh?" Sehun's word is muffled by the noises, so he raises his voice. "We visiting?" Luhan nods, making a beeline for the familiar shop.

Kris' bookstore is rather big, having books in several languages, being it a comfort zone for students to buy their books. The first Luhan had met Kris in their second year of high school; he had taken him to be a cool city guy, only to see that he was a bookworm with really awful art skills. 

Kris still likes to believe he's the next Monet, though.

"Kris~" Luhan greets loudly, the bell ringing as he opens the door. He looks up from his counter and pushes up the rim of his glasses. "We're Seoul exploring, and I thought he should know your store, just in case he needs some future textbooks." Sehun waves cheerfully at Kris, and he smiles, placing a bookmark in his reading.

"It's true, students have discounts, more to friends." Kris winks. "Just ask Jongin or Tao." Sehun nods politely, glancing around at the large bookstore. He trails off to the Harry Potter section, and Luhan snickers. 

"You're already so attached to the kid," Kris coos, pinching Luhan cheek. Luhan tries to bite his finger as he pulls away quickly. 

"He's pretty likable," Luhan says, looking at Sehun as he flips through the pages of Harry Potter. "Don't tell me you didn't start acting like a better hyung to Tao."

"I haven't seen you get so close to anyone this quickly, reminds me of—"

"Yeah," Luhan interrupts him. "Yeah, I know." His stomach clenches and Luhan wants nothing more than to take the feeling away; to hide from the most awful feeling in the world. Kris doesn't notice, and if he did, he doesn't say anything. The voices come back, and Luhan wants nothing more than to shut them away.

_ Remember? _

_ High school was nothing but a pretty Luhan. _

Luhan advances towards Sehun, knowing the voices will go away when he's near him. And they do, replaced with the quick flips of paper in the book. Sehun shuts the book and peers through his bangs. "I didn't know Harry Potter had new covers," he waves the book around. "Not as good as the original covers, though." Slipping the book back into its place, Sehun straightens up, stuffing his hands into his pocket. "Did you need anything here?"

Luhan blinks. "No, just wanted to say hi to Kris," he jabs a thumb back at Kris' general direction, and Sehun shrugs. "I think that's enough Myeongdong for today, and I think it's just the right time to check out Yeouido park." Sehun lets himself get pulled away from Luhan, both of them waving goodbye to Kris, who waves goodbye with the book in his hand, the bookmark fluttering out of it's flaps and falling to the ground as so. 

"You're like a Seoul native," Sehun muses, now walking at a steady pace, side by side with Luhan.

"I like to pretend I am," Luhan rolls his shoulder, his arms feeling heavy and tired. It's a few minute walk to Luhan's car, but the time is well spent with Sehun taking pictures of the places with his phone, the sound of shutters appealing to Luhan's ears. Without warning, Sehun turns his phone and takes a picture of Luhan, and taken back Luhan squints. 

Sehun breathes out a short laugh, looking at the picture. "Give me that," Luhan tries to reach for his phone, but Sehun shakes his head. "I'll leave you stranded here." Luhan deadpans. Sehun swipes through his photos, admiring the scenery he took of the busy streets and busy people.

"Let's take a picture together, chocolate-hyung." Sehun wiggles around the phone in his hand and holds it up. Luhan struggles in Sehun's hold, their cheeks pressed together. Sehun presses the button a few times, before letting Luhan go. "I'll send it to you later." 

"Ah...okay." Luhan couldn't figure a witty reply quickly, so he falls for a lame response. Sehun snaps a few more pictures, voicing  _ahs_  and  _ohhs_  as he swipes through the pictures of bright signs and crowded streets. The brightness and vulnerability in his eyes don't go unnoticed by Luhan as he snaps more photos of the streets.

 "You really do like taking pictures," Luhan muses, glancing over Sehun's shoulder. "Into photography?" Sehun shrugs half-heartedly, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 

 "It's a hobby...in between stuff," Sehun weaves through the crowd expertly, while Luhan stumbled behind him. "I work in the mornings, classes in the afternoon. Dance at the studio at night, but I can take pictures anytime, at least." 

 "I still haven't seen you dance," Luhan says, and Sehun pulls him by the elbow when he's wedged in between a few teenagers in the crowd. They're nearing the car, and it's less crowded near there, away from the markets. "I'd like to, you know, before the recital."

 "I'd like that," Sehun says breezily, and leaning against the hood of the car, his bag with the manwhas dangling in his grasp. "Kyungsoo is always visiting Jonginnie; maybe you can be my designated visitor." Sehun's cheeky again, and Luhan whacks him with the palm of his palm at his knee.   
 "Who says I'll visit you?" Luhan tease, car keys dangling in between his index finger and thumb. "Yixing is a better company."  
   
 Sehun laughs airily, courtesy of the wind blowing. Luhan doesn't like how chilly it is today because windy days always meant a head cold for Luhan at night. "You don't think that," he says easily, and slips into the passenger seat, laughing as Luhan grumbles something about Sehun's ego. "Are we going to Namsan yet?"  
   
 Luhan shrugs into his seat belt, slipping off his gloves to drive. "No, it's better at night, you'll see."   
   
 Yeouido Park had been one of the first places Luhan had seen when coming to Korea. His aunt had taken off work for the day, taking Luhan around because he was too timid to slip into one of the Chinese tourist groups. It was early spring then, and all that was in his vision were the pretty trees that paved the pathway for the park; staring at the pasture of green and pink that seemed outlandishly different from the rest of sleepless Seoul. Yeouido park was beautiful; and like Sehun drove away those voices of his.  
   
 It was college for Luhan when his aunt moved away from Seoul to a quieter Providence, claiming the city was too young for her, too busy. Luhan's aunt still calls on the nights Luhan can't sleep; murmuring how the places near her were like Yeouido; and that he'd love it, too. "I hope you don't mind the nature scene. It's photogenic; you can take more photos there, too." Sehun nods his head, and leans his head on the glass, blowing hot breaths again.  
   
 Like Myeongdong, there're not too many people here in the morning. Luhan slams the car door shut, three kids scrambling past him, mothers hurrying after their children. Hastily putting on the too-big gloves on, Sehun's right beside him, eye slipping into crescents as he smiles at the trees. "It's much more beautiful in spring, the trees," Luhan says, noticing how bright Sehun looks. "But it's pretty nice in fall, too, huh?"   
   
 Sehun rolls back on his heels, crunching the leaves under him. "Nice," he says, wasting no time in taking more photos. Luhan pulls Sehun along with his free hand while the younger one takes photos eagerly, the sight makes Luhan chuckle. "Hey, Luhan-hyung," Sehun says, and Luhan turns his head around, still smiling, hearing the snap of his phone right as he turn.   
   
 "I'm sure it's illegal to take photos of people without their consent," Luhan says dryly, but makes no motion to take the phone away from Sehun. Gleefully, Sehun holds up the phone, wiggling it in his grasp.  
   
 "But you look good," Sehun says, and Luhan looks at the picture once Sehun stopped shaking the phone. His arm was extended, apparently holding Sehun's wrist, and he looked happy against the setting of Yeouido Park. It is good, but Luhan doesn't tell Sehun that.  
   
 "We won't get to see all the good stuff if you're just going to snap pictures of me," Luhan says, his words threaded with threatening laughter, and lets go of his wrist when they're walking side by side.   
   
 The path is wide; the people walking it are measured by youth. Young couples are swaying hands, kids scattered by the number, and the older ones lounging on the nearby benches, watching and waving their arms around animatedly. The walk way is wide enough for bikers, and Luhan steps a foot closer to Sehun to make room for a little girl to cycle by. Luhan doesn't step back when the girl shouts thank you and is gone, and they walk like that, arms brushing against each other.  
   
 Nearing the parts with more vendors, Luhan catches sight of a small vendor that was walled in with children and teenagers. "Sehun-ah," Luhan tugs at his elbow, pointing in the general direction of the vendor. "Do you want some sweets?" Sehun squints, trying to focus on the little snack shop. Luhan knows it's the large chocolate bars that have Sehun's attention, as he drags the shorter one towards the sweets. Luhan's used to his friends having a sweet tooth; especially Chanyeol, who could be found at the local candy shop if lost. But Luhan finds Sehun's sweet tooth practically endearing; that of a small child.  
   
 It's debatable whether or not Sehun is an overgrown child with a driver's license.   
   
   
   
   
 The kids that barricades Luhan and Sehun in are only up to Luhan's thigh, and only nearing Sehun's knee. Luhan feels like one of those titans in Jongin's animes, surrounded by eager kids that are clutching on candy bars that were too sugary for the morning. The girl working the vendor is pretty, uncrumpling wons and folding them neatly in a box.   
   
 Sehun glances at the cases holding chocolate and chewy candy and turns to Luhan, a crooked smile. "You like sweets right, hyung?" Luhan nods, remembering the box of caramel he hid under the mattress so Hyunjae wouldn't chide him about cavities. "Just not chocolate bubble tea?" Luhan nods again. The girl looks up at Sehun, and the sudden interest in her eyes doesn't go unnoticed by Luhan, as she takes in Sehun.   
   
 "What would you like?" The girl bats her lashes—just like Chanyeol and Baekhyun—and leans against the counter, and her smile is pretty, too. Luhan ignores the sinking feeling that constricts his chest, and Sehun's sharp elbow nudges Luhan lightly, and Luhan just shrugs.  
   
 "Two bbopki...oh, and the chocolate bars, two." Sehun orders, and Luhan wonders if Sehun could feel the girl's attraction towards him, an attraction well-spent, too. He's like Chanyeol and Kris in matters of appeal, all height, and features. The only difference is that Chanyeol's long limbs turn him to a wild boar, and Kris doesn't know what to do with his arms half the time. The girl blushes, and peels two bboki off the plate, freshly made and stamped with designs.  
   
 She hands Sehun the one with the stamped heart and one with a star to Luhan.   
   
 Sehun drops a 10,000 won onto the counter, and stuffs his change into his back pocket. He smiles at Luhan, urging him to bite off the sugary bbopki. He swipes the chocolate bar off the counter, slipping one in Luhan's free hand. "I could have paid, you know." Luhan reminds him. "We're touring, this should be my treat."  
   
 Sehun scoffs and pulls Luhan in for a squeeze before pushing him playfully. "Hey, back home my friends said I was too cheap," he says around the bbopki. "I'm a changed man, hyung."   
   
 They walk around a bit more, not worrying about the chocolate melting because of the cold. Sehun does most of the talking; animatedly, too. Luhan, on the other hand, is too busy trying to push the sugar bits of the bbopki off his teeth with his tongue.   
   
 Luhan's feet starts to weep after fifteen minutes, and Sehun snags an empty bench while watching some ducks flap around the pond.  
   
 "Yeoudio is beautiful," Sehun breathes out, tossing his head back to stretch his neck. "Do you walk around here often?"  
   
 Luhan peels off a piece of wrapper paper off the chocolate bar. "Yeah, I used to go here with my aunt a lot as a teenager. Hyunjae or Kyungsoo walk with me sometimes, though." Only sometimes, though, because Hyunjae's feet get tired easily, and Kyungsoo hates bugs.   
   
 "We can walk together now," Sehun says, breaking off a piece of Luhan's chocolate and popping it into his mouth. Luhan sticks his tongue out at him, waving the candy away from him. Together, Luhan thinks. It's a nice word, especially coming from Sehun.  
   
 Yeoudio takes a toll on them, their conversations quieter but, all the same, pattern. There's no rush like in Myeongdong, no crowd to weave through. The footsteps that Luhan had associated with his aunt and him in freshman year long fades and all is there are Sehun's sticky fingers and drumming on the bench. It's nice, to move away from the path. There's a group of teenage girls sitting under a large tree, and Luhan can't tell if they're staring at him or Sehun.  
   
 Sehun sucks the chocolate off his finger, and Luhan looks at him, eyebrow raised. "I have tissues; you could've asked."  
   
 "That's not fun, though," He says matter of factly, but still takes the wrinkled napkin offered. His expression changes afterward, his eyebrows knitted together, crinkles in his milky skin. "Those girls behind us...they're whispering about you, I think," whispers Sehun, and he looks at Luhan, waiting. Luhan doesn't say anything, but he freezes. "You're quite the chat; I bet you have a lot of admirers." Sehun laughs, and Luhan chuckles, but it's strained. Blinking, he can hear the giggles and not so subtle whispers behind them, a few feet away.   
   
 "He looks like the main love interest in a shoujo manwha!"  
   
 "Do you think he's too beautiful?"  
   
 "Like a girl, prettier..."  
   
 Luhan's throat closes, and leans in closer to Sehun, hoping the voices go away. Except, it's not in his head, this time, loud and clear against reality, and Sehun can't make them go away. It's alright, Luhan thinks, until one of the girl skitters to a halt in front of them, her cheeks flushed and stared right at Luhan. "I'm sorry, but my friends...we couldn't help but notice you," Sehun looks questionably at her, and Luhan just wants to shut his eyes. "And, you're beautiful!" The girl blurts out, and Luhan wants nothing more than to curl his body towards Sehun, and hide.  
   
 "Thank you," despite his voice hoarse and shaky, he doesn't fail to be polite. The girl giggles and runs off, back to her friends. The real voices go away, but Luhan still feels sick his stomach churning.  
   
_You can't be anything else.  
   
 NoTHING._  
   
 Luhan isn't a stranger to this, though. He's familiar; familiar enough to stop going to lit brightly clubs, enough to hide the gifts from female coworkers into a file cabinet. Too familiar, but yet not enough. Luhan shivers, and it's not from the cold. His fingers clench and unclench on the armrest of the chair, and Sehun sees, too. And Luhan wonders if it's because of the girls, but his mind turns to a haze, and his eyelids are too much of a weight.  
   
 "Hyung, are you sick?"  
   
 "No."  
   
 "But..."  
   
 Luhan shakes his head against Sehun, dismissing him. "I'm alright, stop worrying."  
   
 "Was it...was it because of the girl...?" Sehun asks tentatively, patting Luhan's knee gently.   
   
 "I'm just tired, could you let me—?" Luhan asks hopefully, and Sehun doesn't say anything and lets Luhan nestle his head into the crook of his neck. Sehun's cologne isn't gag-worthy, and he appreciates that, nuzzling his nose closer to Sehun. His arms find itself around his waist, too, and he treats Sehun like the pillow Luhan clings onto during the nights. He wonders if Sehun is shivering from the cold, and it encourages Luhan to tighten his hold around his waist.   
   
 It takes only a few minutes of heavy breathing and Sehun's humming, the dip of his shoulder, before the weight of sleep stitches Luhan's eyes closed. 

 

 

➳➳➳

   
   
 Luhan's mind, cobwebbed in haze and the residue of sleep tries to start working again after Luhan pried his eyes open. There's a blur of blue that covers half his vision, recognizable as the scarf Sehun had been sporting all morning. He bolts up straight, and too fast apparently because Sehun lets out a groan. Luhan turns his eyes towards Sehun, who's rubbing his eyes lazily. "I'm sorry! I didn't...I mean I did mean to sleep, but not for that long!" Luhan lets out in one breath, fumbling with the scarf around him. Sehun must've wrapped his scarf around Luhan after he fell asleep.  
   
 "It's alright, you're a cute hyung when you sleep," Sehun says, eyes as crescents with his smile. "When you're asleep, you're not threatening to murder anyone or stare at them in judgment." Luhan lets go of the _sorrys_ he's been holding and scowls at Sehun. Sehun shrugs cheekily, and rolls his neck to the left, and proceeds to do the same to his right. "Did you not sleep well last night?"  
   
 Luhan looks down at his fingers, which were mostly hidden under the sleeves of his jacket. "I have trouble sleeping a lot," Luhan admits, thoughts trailing back to the dark bedroom of his; where shadows made lonely company. Sehun nods in understanding and Luhan drops the scarf onto his lap with a thank you. "Does your, uh, shoulder hurt? Does it?" Luhan asks sheepishly.  
   
 "Not at all, your head's light."   
   
 Luhan glances down at his phone. 11:31 AM. He frowns, feeling guilty for sleeping instead of showing Sehun more of Yeouido Park. He knows it's too chilly for running through the water fountains here, but he thought Sehun might of wanted to see it. "I'm really sorry about sleeping."  
   
 "We slept," Sehun corrects him. "Stop apologizing, I slept, too. It's not a crime." Sehun brushes off the imaginary dust off his jeans and offers a hand to pull Luhan up. He stretches out his arms before heading back onto the pathway. There're more people as it nears afternoon, and Luhan guides Sehun back to the car.   
   
 "Namsan yet?" Sehun asks lightly, already knowing.  
   
 "Lunch, idiot." Luhan searches his pocket for his keys. "I hope you don't mind street food in Seoul." He's nonchalant, worrying if Sehun doesn't like street food.   
   
 Instead, Sehun just nods. "I eat it all the time, I walk home from the dance studio and grab some every night."  
   
 Luhan tilts his head as they walk, mouth twitching into another frown. "You walk home alone? At night?"  
   
 "I'm a guy, at least. And it's close to the dorms, anyways." Still, it doesn't keep Luhan from sighing, before pressing the button twice, unlocking the doors to his car.   
   
 "We're going to walk; it's close." Luhan jerks the car door open, ducking his head in. "I just needed to get my watch." Sehun starts to peel off his jacket, folding it over his arms neatly. "It's windy today, aren't you going to get cold?" Sehun stuffs his jacket into the back seat, left in his loose flannel and tee.   
   
 Sehun laughs breezily. Luhan feels warm whenever he laughs. "It's only cold to you, hyung. It's just cool to me." Luhan shuts the doors and locks it, his watch clutched in his hands. He leans against the hood of his car, bringing up his wrist to tie the watch around him. Too late now to take off his gloves, he fumbles with it, before Sehun appears right in front of him, snickering.  
   
 "Let me," Sehun takes the watch out of Luhan's hand. "Or else you're going to drop the watch that probably cost more than my tuition." Luhan mutters something in Chinese, and Sehun pulls his wrist closer to him, tugging the watch around his thin wrist. It slips into place, and he brushes his fingers across the protruding bone on Luhan's wrist, and it lingers for too long. Sehun steps back a bit and giggles.   
   
 "What?" Luhan eyes him warily, and he's holding his wrist in his hands, suddenly feeling delicate.  
   
 "You make me look like a neighborhood kid with alcohol issues," Sehun says between fits of giggles. Luhan looks down at himself, in his Peabody jacket and skinny jeans. His eyes travel to Sehun then, who sports a more urban, casual look. "I wonder what you'd look like in a flannel and snap back." Sehun muses and tilts his head as if to picture Luhan.  
   
 "I wonder what you'd look like in a suit," Luhan shoots back and starts walking towards the busy streets. Sehun trails a bit behind him, pausing to pull off his hat, revealing matted hair. Running a fast hand through his hair, he pulls the cap back on tighter, and Luhan does wonder if he'd look younger with a hat like Sehun.  
   
 They don't bother talking; they wouldn't be able to hear each other, anyways, the cars as slight blurs driving by. There's also a lot of shouting, people trying to sell things on the street. It's like stepping out of a dream; stepping out of Yeouido.   
   
 Luhan snags a table for two, consisting of plastic chairs and plastic tables with a crumpled up napkin left by the people before them. Sehun slumps into the seat, and Luhan stands up immediately. "I'm going to get food, you like tteokbokki, right? Red bean?" He looks over at the vendors, trying to search for more variety. After getting a nod from Sehun, his speed walks over to the tteokbokki line first.   
   
 It's not quite a lengthy line, but enough for Luhan to pull out his phone, fingers tapping quickly to pass his password screen to see his text notifications. 

10:53 AM.  
   
Hyunjae: Are you taking Sehun around Seoul? Jongdae said you were~  
   
11:46 AM.  
   
Luhan: Yeah, showing him the places I like, let's have dinner tmmrw night

11:46 AM.

Hyunjae: Why did you catch me at the wrong time, I have dinner with Sujeong for display flower arrangements, Tuesday? I want to have dinner with you ♡

11:46 AM.

Luhan: Okay, @ 6

   
Luhan laughs quietly. It was clear Hyunjae was happy. She didn't send hearts often because she finds it skirmish. He decides not to asks because knowing Hyunjae; she could've been ecstatic just from seeing a poodle, or something.  
   
   
   
 Quickly exiting out of the chat, Luhan clicks on the second message from Baekhyun.   
   
 

11:13 AM.  
   
Baekhyunnie: hyuuuuuung namsan with sehunnie? take pics for me  
   
Baekhyunnie: need them for upcoming webtoon, need ideas  
   
Baekhyunnie: pretty pls  
   
11:47 AM.   
   
 Luhan: Yeah, but expect them later at night, ok~

   
   
 Luhan puts his phone away when he's at the front of the line, smiling at the woman running the food stand. "Could I get two orders of spicy rice cakes?" Luhan drops a 10,000 won onto the counter, the woman scooping up hot tteokbokki into two plastic containers. Giving his thanks, he drops his change into her jar and weaves his way through to the taiyaki vendor, which isn't as crowded as the spicy rice cake line. Pointing to the two fish-shaped bread, he holds up two fingers. "Four, please," he says and presses the 5,000 won paper bill into the man's hand. He drops the four pieces of the Japanese bread into a white paper bag for Luhan, and while careful not to drop his rice cakes, he rushes back to the table where Sehun is staring at the busy streets from under his bright red cap.  
   
 Sehun turns around before Luhan reaches the table, a slight of a smile appears, and Luhan feels warm, again.   
   
 "Tteokbokki," Luhan announces bluntly, dropping the two servings of the bright red snack, and Sehun eyes it hungrily. "And cute fish bread," he adds, plopping the bag beside them. He tears a pair of chopsticks for himself, reaching for the rice cake, whereas Sehun's hand disappears into the pocket, pulling out a taiyaki.  
   
 "I've said this already I think," Sehun tears off a piece of taiyaki with his fingers. "But thank you, again. For taking me around." Sehun says quietly, and it sounds so genuine that Luhan doesn't say anything at first, just watching Sehun shift around in his seat  
   
 "No need for thanks," Luhan blows on the limp rice cake. "I want you to be comfortable with me, and Seoul."  
   
 "I feel like I've gotten to know you more than I know Seoul." Sehun leans in; elbows slanted on the table. He's nearly finished with the bread, red bean oozing out from the bitten part, remaining only the tail.  
   
 Swirling his chopsticks around the red sauce, he looks up, worried. "Is that because of me? I could've been a better tour guide..." Luhan trails off, suddenly abashed and guilty. Sehun's eyes widen a fraction and shake his head quickly. Pieces of red bean are flying around.  
   
 "No, no. I just pay attention more to the things I'm interested in."  
   
 Luhan snorts, plucking up another tteokbokki. "I wonder how you're doing in your classes, then."  
   
 "I'll have you know that I'm a good student." Sehun defends himself, admitting science is his weak spot, though.   
   
 Luhan scoots his plastic, cheap as fuck chair closer to Sehun, threatening to drop a piece of rice cake on Sehun if he doesn't eat more. "We're going to do a lot of walking, get some energy." Luhan urges, motioning the slippery food towards Sehun. He sticks his tongue out at him, but lets Luhan feed him it; a bit of the sauce coats the edges of his lips, to which Sehun quickly wipes off with a napkin.   
   
 Lips stained with the after last of spiciness and sweet red bean, speaking against the almost-December chill, Luhan is a high schooler. At least, he feels like it. However, rather than sporting a uniform, he's wearing too expensive clothes—and he has a few too many years on him to pass for a student.  
 

➳➳➳

   
   
   
 Early afternoon stretches into late afternoon, bordering on a near night. In the time in between, they go window shopping, pointing out funny things seen in the shops. At one point, Luhan panicked because Sehun wasn't anywhere to be seen; only to be staring at a puppy outside the pet store. There's street performers; guitarists and dancers, and they stop for a few minutes to watch and drop their change.   
   
 "Sehun-ah!" Luhan shouts, trying to get the attention of the tall one, who was watching a boy play guitar expertly. Sehun blinks a few times, and tears his attention away, jogging up to Luhan. "It's almost time for Namsan; we should go." Sehun nods excitedly, and the car swallows them whole, Luhan pushing the keys in to start the engine.  
   
 "Are we taking the cable car?" Sehun asks harmlessly, snapping the seatbelt over his chest.   
   
 Taken back, Luhan turns to Sehun. He should go on the cable car, it would be perfect for him, Luhan thinks, ignoring the crushing feeling of his organs being squashed in his chest. "Y-yeah, we're driving back to Myeongdong—that's where the cable cars are." Taking a deep breath, Luhan ignores it, turning onto the road that leads there.   
   
 He also ignores the whites of his knuckles as he drives.  
   
   
 Myeongdong is a lot more crowded at night, just like Luhan had said earlier, the shopping district bustling with shoppers and clubbers. He's driving a bit slower, this time, the radio not on, and he listens to the slight hum and tapping of Sehun's fingers, drumming against the glass. There's a noraebang they pass by, stumbling teenagers leaving the place. It's rather obvious they were too young to drink, some of them starting to holler at the top of their lungs a Girl's Generation song. Cringing, Luhan quickly rolls up the window, and Sehun's laugh fills up the car.   
   
 "Have you gone to a noraebang before, hyung?" Sehun stops his tapping, sitting up straight in the seat.  
   
 "We went for Joonmyun's birthday a few months ago," Luhan mutters, memories of Baekhyun screaming into the mic with an EXID song, dancing perfectly to the beat. "Joonmyun didn't even sing on his birthday, that bastard."   
   
 They pass by the bookstore, and Kris is there, slumped over his desk—Luhan thinks he's sleeping, but he's not sure because they drive by a bit too fast to see. There's a text notification, and it's Sehun's phone this time. He pulls it out of his pocket, eyebrows furrowing at the notification. "Tao's watching Frozen again, he asked if I'm coming home too early." Sehun's eye twitches at the screen in irritation.  
   
 "What?"  
   
 "When Tao goes on a Disney marathon, he shrieks, squeals, and I don't know, cry sometimes. It drove me insane when he was doing it at 3 AM before." Sehun sighs and runs his hand through his hair, pulling it a little bit. His hat in his lap.   
   
 Luhan pauses for a moment, eyes not leaving the road. "You can stay, over my apartment, I mean." Luhan takes a moment to look over at him, and Sehun looks at him curiously. "It's best if you get to sleep, you can do that, at my place." Luhan fumbles with his words, and he wants to kick himself. It's too dark for Sehun to notice him take a hand off the wheel to pinch himself.   
   
 "I...I don't want to impose—"  
   
 "You're not imposing on anything," Luhan interrupts. "I have spare toothbrushes and really big tee-shirts that I bought last year because I liked the colors, and take out." He's rambling, and Luhan wants to throw himself out the car. Sehun doesn't say anything. "Y-you don't have to...I just," he should shut up now. A small wave of panic washes over him, worrying if Sehun thinks he's too weird. They barely met a month ago, but that isn't weird to Luhan, and he wishes it's the same for him.  
   
 Sehun bites his lip, pulling it into his mouth. "Is it really okay?"  
   
 Luhan pulls into an empty parking lot. "If it weren't okay, I wouldn't have offered." Luhan forces himself to look at Sehun, and he flashes a crooked grin, which seems to release the tension in Sehun's shoulders.   
   
 "Thank you." He texts Tao quickly, before getting out of the car. Luhan reaches into the backseat, hands gripping for Sehun's jacket. He throws them at him when he gets out of the car himself, locking it with a beep; twice for safety measures.   
   
 "It's cold at night, wear it. Luhan starts towards the ticket booth with wobbly legs, not giving Sehun any time to complain.   
   
 The man who's stamping the tickets waves the two people in front of them goodbye as they start for the stairs that lead towards the cable cars. Luhan feels dizzy, and it's nearly a task to keep walking straight. His face is covered with his scarf, and he can hear Sehun zipping up his own jacket a few steps behind him. "Two tickets for..." Luhan gulps, his words weak and strained. "The cable car, please." And if the man noticed Luhan's distress, he doesn't say anything.   
   
 "That'd be 16,800 won, please."   
   
 Luhan wastes no time to flip open his wallet, but Sehun's quicker, with already a 20,000 won in his hand, depositing it into the man's hand. Luhan hisses at him and Sehun ignores him, saying thank you as the man hands back his age. Luhan takes the tickets but is in no hurry. Sehun loops his arm around Luhan's, grinning ear to ear. "Do I annoy you?"  
   
 "I want to pay," Luhan says shortly. "Especially for this, it's supposed to be my treat."  
   
 "You've treated me enough today," Sehun points out. "Let's go." His hand snakes down to Luhan's wrist, pulling him gently up the stairs. The dizziness doesn't fade, and Luhan feels sick already; despite not even on the cable car. However, he sings a different tune when he sees the cable car; and Luhan sounds as if he had participated in a marathon before this.  
   
 It's mostly empty, say for the two youths sitting in the corner, noses too far into their phone to look up.   
   
 They take the seat on the other end of the cable car, and Luhan's legs feel like ramyun. He collapses with a short gasp against Sehun, nearly making him fall. Sehun is startled and grips his arms to hold him up. "Luhan!" Too taken back to use honorifics, Sehun uses his hand to pull Luhan's chin up, eyes flashing with concern. "Hyung, what's wrong?"  
   
 Unable to hold back anymore, Luhan shakes his hands off his face and opts to bury the entirety of his face into Sehun's shirt. "I have a fear of heights," Luhan whispers, his voice raspy. Sehun's hands are frozen on his back, and Luhan tightens his grasp on Sehun, pulling the fabric into a tight fist. There's an awkward, uncomfortable silence, before Sehun lets out a long, sweet, shit, and pulls Luhan in closer.   
   
 "Why didn't you tell me? It's not too late to get off the cable car," Sehun tries to stand up, but Luhan pulls him down instantly, whimpering into his chest. "Was it...was it because I asked earlier? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"  
   
 "Stop, it's not your fault." His voice sounds hoarse. "I just want you to enjoy this; I'm sorry." Sehun's hands are rubbing Luhan's back in soothing, circular motions. He feels small; a hyung seeking comfort in his dongsaeng, burying his face into his chest and whimpering. There's no room for him to worry about image right now, though.   
   
 Sehun's cradling Luhan, murmuring sorry and it's okayed. His knee digs into Sehun's thigh, but he doesn't complain, patting him instead and running his hand through Luhan's jet black hair. It was then when the cable car moves, that Luhan pulls tightly at Sehun's arm, breathing harshly. Sehun's breath is hot against his hair, and they're out of step with the rest of the world, the younger one's cheeky persona is non-existent as he consults his hyung, and Luhan finding comfort in the slender arms of his.   
   
 He doesn't stop whispering soothing words, not even after Luhan's breathing is leveled again, and the grip around his waist loosens. He doesn't stop; continuous whispers against Luhan's head. The soothing words die down when their cable car stops; and Luhan shuts his eyes again, preparing himself for unsteady breathing. "Just listen to my voice," Sehun says, palms flat against Luhan's shoulders. "Don't even try to open your eyes."  
   
 Luhan lets the younger one boss him around, this time, waving his hand around in the air until Sehun grabs it, and pulls it down; not letting go. "Here, go straight, then we're off the cable car." The rim of Sehun's snap back brushes against Luhan's temple as he leans down loser to look. He wants to open his eyes, open his eyes to see Sehun's close face to him, shadowed by his hat and leading the older one off the cable car, and quickly dismisses the thought of factious wants.   
   
 He feels the change in flooring, and Sehun's hold less cautious and tight. There's also a change in the air; more chilly and unfiltered that's accompanied by loud voices speaking in a few languages, mostly Korean with the bit of foreigners laced in. "Thanks," Luhan croaks, before clearing his throat to rid himself of a dry throat. Sehun nods and ruffles Luhan's hair up until pulling his hat around him. He scowls, but lets him pull the hat around his ears again; preserving the warmth of his skin and the red tips of his ears.  
   
 "Namsan has a light show, at night." Luhan breathes the air that's now filled with a tinge of smoke from the vendors. "It's really pretty and abstract; I thought maybe you'd enjoy it."  
   
 Sehun doesn't say anything unless he did, and Luhan couldn't hear the music that's seeping out of the speakers. The floor is filled with light; neon lights that brush against Luhan's black sneakers. There's the slight drumming effect in him; not a stranger to it, though. It's the effect Luhan feels in loud clubs.   
   
 He'd seen Namsan at night a lot, very aware of the pictures flashing on the curved wall of the tower, the clicking of camera shutters as first-timers capture the pretty moment of the light show. He'd seen the variety of color fall upon the tower, and sometimes if he was in it for the light show; the colors would fall on him.   
   
 Luhan turns to Sehun, expecting the snaps of his phone, but he's not taking pictures. Instead, he looks vulnerable under the artificial lights, hands that didn't have a place, just hanging there. The sharpness of his face was gone, smothered by the music and colors. "Not taking pictures?" Luhan asks expectedly.   
   
 Sehun breathes out heavily, breaths that are coated by the temperature. "Not tonight." His words hang off, but Luhan doesn't wait for him to continue, and he doesn't.  
   
 "Are you hungry? If not now, we can order take out at my place later."   
   
 Sehun shakes his head, not interested in the vendors. "Eating at your place sounds nicer. Can we...look at the locks?" he asks, staring off at the hurried couples with already locks of their own in their hands. Luhan grins and starts towards the stair, the harshness of the early cable car ride already long faded.     
 

➳➳➳

 

   
   
 The last time Luhan went up to Namsan was in August, and the number of locks seems to double even more whenever he comes back. Sehun lets out a low whistle, looking at the cluttered mess of locks on the fences.   
   
 "Lots of love in Seoul, huh?" Sehun holds one up, one that's scribbled in cartoony hearts.   
   
 Luhan blows out air, rubbing his hand at his sides. "Lots of them." He points out the love seat to Sehun, where it's inked in sharpies with couples' names scrawled messily across the wood. There's also the view; where the girls stand in front of their boyfriends' camera, the V-sign of their hands present.  
   
 He's too busy watching a girl running over to a fence to lock her lock on to notice Sehun slipping away from his side. He notices, though when the rim of Sehun's hat is out of his corner vision, and Luhan turns around, panicking. There're few people with red caps on, but Luhan's too busy pushing past the crowd shouting "Sehun!" to look for the red.   
   
 He spots him in the lock shop, towards the entrance with his hand rummaging through the shelves that displayed the cute locks for sale. Relieved with a tinge of annoyance, Luhan scrambles towards him, hand out reached to pull over his shoulder. "Hey, Sehun!" His voice is a bit too loud, but it couldn't be helped with the disheveled breathing of his; pushing through the crowd hastily. "Don't go off like that, punk."   
   
 "Sorry," Sehun says, but he doesn't sound like it, too busy absorbed in the things he's looking at. "But isn't this cute?" Slipped in between his index finger and thumb is a strawberry-shaped lock. He drops it into Luhan's hand, and he stares at the anime-drawn eyes of the strawberry, short, stubby arms protruding out of its material.   
   
 "It is," Luhan murmurs, turning the lock around, looking at the cute little-painted seeds.   
   
 Sehun slings a tired arm around Luhan, chuckling. "It reminds me of your strawberry shampoo."  
   
 Luhan thwacks Sehun on the stomach, already bitter. "It was an accident." Sehun snorts, earning another hit from his hyung.  
   
 "Let's hang a lock," Sehun says, snatching the lock out of Luhan's hand. "Do you want to hang this strawberry one or maybe something else—"  
   
 Luhan's left eye twitch; the same twitch that sends Chanyeol out of their shared office to give Luhan a moment. His lips part to say something, but out comes a spluttered of words that didn't sound like Chinese or Korean. "Lock? That's for couples, you know, l-like romantically involved or sexually involved and that's literally...that's for couples." He says it in one quick take, mustering control so his voice range wouldn't be on shouting level.   
   
 Sehun looks at him for a moment, before doubling over in a light laugh. "You're a cute hyung, you are." Straightening up, he's holding Luhan again by the shoulder. "We can lock a friendship, right?" Luhan winces and Sehun notices. "If it makes you uncomfortable...then we don't—"  
   
 "No!" Luhan shouts and shuts his mouth instantly when a middle-aged man looked over at them. "Let's lock it," he says quickly, and Sehun's fallen face rearranges itself into a smile. Luhan looks down at his shoes; his smile was too much for Luhan.   
   
 "So...strawberry?" Sehun sounds suddenly shy, and Luhan squirms, because it's so cute.  
   
 "Yeah," Luhan trails off and points to something. "Hey, Sehunnie look at—" Immediately, he snatches the lock out of Sehun's hand, silently thanking Yixing for making him run a marathon with him in Junior year. 

 

➳➳➳

  
   
   
   
 "Do you always do this to your friends?"   
   
 Luhan looks back at Sehun innocently. "I don't know what you're talking about."  
   
 He looks at Luhan flatly. "Run off like a squirrel to pay."   
   
 "I'm just a good friend," Luhan says shortly, but grins when he bumps shoulders with Sehun. Ignoring the comment about the squirrel, he takes the lock and sharpie out of the plastic bag.   
   
 "Write something first."  
   
 They take a momentary rest at a secluded corner, and Luhan stares blankly at the lock. When he came with Hyunjae, it was easy. He wrote her name and doodled a few pink hearts, and Hyunjae does the same for him. Luhan looks up at Sehun expectedly, but he just shrugs. "Go on, write something." Instead of hearts and vows of forever love like most locks have, Luhan writes messily on the lock; courtesy of the difficulty of writing in a small space.  _Sehunnie's favorite hyung~ 哥哥._  
   
 Luhan hands off the lock to Sehun, who takes it gingerly; careful not to smudge the newly inked words. "What's this?"  
   
 "Ge-ge, like hyung." Sehun tries out the new word, rolling it around in his mouth. After teasing Luhan with, Luhan-gege over and over, Sehun wastes no name in writing his message. Luhan peers over Sehun's shoulder, and his handwriting isn't any better than his.  _Chocolate-hyung's best dongsaeng ㅋㅋㅋㅋ._ Wordlessly, they pull each other to the bouquet of locks. After today, Luhan's no stranger to skinship, and Sehun isn't, either. Luhan points out to a spot on the barbed wire quietly, catching Sehun's attention.  
   
 "Do you want to hang it?"  
   
 Luhan shakes his head, soft smiles as a pleasant company. Carefully, as if the lock was of glass, Sehun slips the lock over the fence. Adjusting it so it wouldn't be stuck in between all the other ones, he locks it, snapping it in place. He leans back, as if proud of the moment. "How does it feel, hanging it for the first time?"  
   
 "Iconic."  
   
 Luhan laughs bumping shoulders. "Too bad you didn't do it with a girlfriend or anything, but I'm second best at least." Sehun doesn't reply, so Luhan looks out at the view, saturated with bright lights and starless skies. His promise to Baekhyun strikes him, moving his hand to his pocket to pull out the phone. "That's right, I have to take photos of Namsan for Baekhyun."  
   
 "Baekhyun?"  
   
 "Webtoon stuff, he needs Namsan pictures for motivation, I guess." Luhan holds up the camera, but frowns. "Do you mind if you take them for me? I'm shaky with cameras." The phone that's too big in Luhan's hands fit perfectly wrapped up in Sehun's fingers.   
   
  _Snap._  
   
 "Do you need anything from your dorm before heading back to my place?"  
   
  _Snap._  
   
 "I'll be fine, thanks, Luhan-hyung."  
   
 The snapping goes on for maybe six more times, before he raises the phone up in the air, angling it down on them. "Cheese," Sehun's strayed hair tickles Luhan's temple. It snaps a photo, and Sehun smells of pine. "How many does Baekhyun-hyung need?"  
   
 "I think that's enough," Luhan replies and slips his phone back into his pocket. Sehun's hat is off now; the straps looped into his jeans, and the wind loosens up his matted hair. It's night, and Luhan isn't watching his weekly anime as he does on Sunday nights. It's 8:21 PM and Luhan won't be eating dinner alone on this Sunday night. It's night, and Luhan hasn't heard his thoughts and voices because Sehun scares them away.

➳➳➳

 Luhan kicks off his shoes at the front, one of them falling on the potted plant that Luhan still hasn't watered. He'll probably water them soon. Maybe the next week, the next month. His toes curl in at the release of his shoes, but still bound by his socks, however. Reaching under a cubby, he pulls out a pair of slippers for Sehun, one of the like, twenty he owns. There're small slippers for Jongdae and Hyunjae, and the large oversized ones for giants such as Kris and Chanyeol. 

 However, Sehun's feet don't look that much bigger than Luhan's, so he pulls one out of—hopefully—his size. Nudging the slippers towards a shy Sehun, Luhan scoffs. "Why do you look like you're about to bolt out the door? You've been here before." Sehun grins sheepishly, draping the jacket of his onto a hanger, still clutching onto the crimson snap back. "Besides, I'd like to think my apartment is cozy enough." Luhan's keys clatter onto the table, along with Sehun's bag of manhwa. 

 Luhan takes a bit longer to take off his layers, carefully unbuttoning his jacket and hanging it next to Sehun's. The scarf and the hat, though, Luhan just throws them on the couch. "I have menus in the kitchen we can look at," Luhan says, pushing Sehun into the kitchen. Kyungsoo had always joked about how Luhan had more menus than kitchen utensils in the place. But in Luhan's defense, he only went out to buy some because Hyunjae and Kyungsoo sometimes offers to cook for him. And well, he couldn't  _possibly_  decline that kind of offer. 

 The menus are bound tightly by an elastic, and he strips off the rubber band, spilling the menus across the white tiles of the floor. "These places open late everyday, anything you're craving?" Sehun looks at them for a moment, before ruling out some menus, after reading the menus quickly. He pushes a menu towards Luhan, tapping on the name. "Chinese food? Okay," Luhan grins, before quickly gathering up the other menus and re-wrapping the band around it.

 Luhan presses the glossy paper in Sehun's palms. "Order what you like, anything," Sehun looks dubious, but looks down at the menu expectedly, humming.

 "Surprise me?"

 

 Luhan snorts, kicking the back of Sehun's calf lightly. The Chinese restaurant is in his contacts, along with numerous other take-out places. The ratio of humans to food on his contacts is rather disappointing. "Do you want to shower? I have fresh towels, and I hope you don't mind using my shampoo and stuff." Luhan has a lot of shampoos; the different scent offered in the stores seems to tempt him too much.

 "Is it the strawberry one?"

 "I swear to God, Sehun I oughta—" Sehun races off, muffled snickers under the palm of his hand. _He's like a middle school boy,_ Luhan thinks, shuffling behind him with the sounds of slippers being heard. He halts to a stop in front of his closet, pulling out a fluffy towel that he washed unwillingly last week. Luhan silently thanks Hyunjae for nagging him about his laundry. Sehun, with his back, pressed against the wood frame of the bathroom, fiddling with the waistband of his jeans. There are shirts that Luhan bought last year in a rush, only to have them a bit too much on him, along with baby sweatpants he uses on lazy Friday nights. "Here, these should fit. I think."

"Thanks," Sehun ruffles Luhan's hair again and shuts the door before Luhan can gouge his eyes out with a toothbrush.

 Luhan dials the number and orders his usual, and a bit more this time. Slumping into his couch, he's pulling up Baekhyun's Kakaotalk, selecting the photos he should send. Baekhyun's last webtoon was a horror one, one that Luhan barely got through because of the jump scare. Jongdae had laughed at him and read the webtoon twice, just for shows. Luhan had stabbed him with a chopstick. 

 Quick fingers gliding across the screen, selecting the HD photos taken by Sehun. He wasn't paying attention to the things Sehun was taken photos of earlier, not really. To his surprise, there were a few of him, not looking at the camera. Luhan had thought he was taking photos of the couples, but it was really of him, his gray coat a funny contrast to the vivid image of the locks.

 There's also the close-up on the love locks, including their strawberry one. The message is easily readable in the photo, even if their handwriting wasn't of the best. The prettiest to Luhan, are the captured images of the view from Namsan. His thumb hovers slightly over the photo of him and Sehun, arms pressed together against the backdrop of pretty city skies. After much hesitation, he sends all of them. 

 Luhan drags himself into the kitchen and pours steaming hot tea into the cups made for him and Sehun. It's not long until Sehun stumbles out of the shower, hair slicked together in different strands. Sehun rubs furiously at his hair, water droplets shooting in area short distance. Luhan, sprawled across the couch lazily, peers up at Sehun through his bangs and blankets, waves. "You're quick at showers."

 Sehun flings the towel over his shoulder, taking a spot near Luhan. There's an odd glint in his eyes, but Luhan disregards it. "I got used to showering quickly since Tao spends like an era in there in the mornings." Luhan sees that the shirt and sweats fit Sehun perfectly, much better than Luhan. When he wore them, the shirt kept slipping off his shoulders and tripping over the pants, so he'd roll it up. "What are you watching?"

 "A drama that I've missed three episodes of," Luhan replies, and Sehun chuckles, snuggling under one of the forty blankets on the couch. He hands a cup of tea to Sehun, and it's in a mug instead of a tea cup. He doesn't want the cup to be swallowed up by Sehun's large hands, anyways. 

 They're silently watching the drama, Sehun having no idea, and Luhan having very little idea. Luhan cocks his head, frowning whenever the main character kept getting in between the ramyun shop owner and the high school boy. "Honestly, just choose one and move on," Luhan grumbles, shifting in his seat so his legs are crossed, the blanket dipped in space in his legs. 

 "Ramyun shop owner seems pretty stable," Sehun says, voice heavy as he stretches out his arm. "The high school boy is—how old? Eighteen?"

 "It's only like a six year age difference," Luhan shrugs into his words, placing his emptied tea cup on the coffee table. "I think prefer him anyways, I think. He loves her, from like the past six episodes I've seen." Luhan wraps another blanket around his shoulders, neck rolling back into the soft cushion of the couch. 

 Sehun slurps his tea, loudly. "You'd date someone much younger than you?" He traces the rims of the mug with his middle finger, before placing it next to Luhan's. 

 "Hyunjae is two years years younger than me."

 Sehun laughs softly, and Luhan looks over to him. Luhan remember meeting Sehun in the bubble tea shop a month ago, and he thought he was cold; with his too-sharp features and the quick of a jawline that seems to be like Tao's. Luhan can scoff at the thought of that because Sehun is squishy and shy. He looks up at Luhan, and he nudges Sehun's leg.

 "You know, you look so much softer with your hair down," Sehun says, his hand going up to Luhan's temple. "When it's teased up, you do look like you're a fancy editor at VERILLI." Luhan dodges his touch and tugs at his own bangs, and Sehun chuckles, curling up his legs to his chest. 

 "That should be the look I was going for," Luhan says, fluffing up his hair. "Fancy editor at VERILLI." Luhan's chest wrings out the heat, and it pools up in him, and it's a nice feeling. Many people have seen his hair down, untouched bangs at his forehead, the light curl of hairs moving inward. He'd also hear the same things from those people.

_ You're so cute with your hair down. _

_Like a young high school boy._  
   
 But, Sehun didn't say that. Sehun didn't at all.

 

➳➳➳

   
 For some reason, they're not eating the take out at the dining table. For some reason, they're sprawled out on Luhan's floor, scarfing down noodles and orange chicken. There's something on TV, a rerun of something, but they're not paying attention. They are paying attention to each others' silly expressions when they eat, though.

 "You have," giggle. "Some broccoli on the corner of your lip."

 "I'll shove some broccoli up your ass, Sehunnie," Luhan wipes away at his lips, crumpling it up and tossing it in the trash bin. They had finished the dumplings quickly, dipping it and plopping it in their mouths. It reminds him of college when Chanyeol was his dorm mate. Neither of them could cook at the time, so take out was enough to satisfy them when Kyungsoo can't cook for them. 

 Half an hour later, the tiny little take-out cartons are stuffed into the trash, and Luhan turns the volume up on the TV and hands Sehun the remote. "I'm going to shower really quick, watch whatever you want. I don't have porn channels, though."

 Sehun gives him a long look and pretends to chuck the remote. "Not interested." Luhan fluffs up a pillow, and places it comfortably in Sehun's lap, before trudging off to the shower.

  

➳➳➳

 Just like he expected, without Sehun in the room, the voices are much louder. 

 Scrubbing furiously at his skin, the hot water makes it worse. He winces but doesn't stop rubbing at his chest with the sponge.

_ can't hide cAN'T HIDE _

_  Leave me alone. _

_  You're so pretty. _

_  stop saying that STOP _

_  Everyone loves you. _

 Luhan checks the bottle of the shampoo, checking if it's his instead of the artificial strawberry one. Pooling the gel in his palm, he pulls at his hair, soaking it in shampoo and water. He's quicker than usual, as he prefers to stand under the hot half for a half hour.

 But that time is cut in half, scrubbing himself clean and splashing soap at his skin, because he doesn't want to leave Sehun alone. Pushing the shower curtain aside, he yelps as he nearly slips, holding onto the towel rack for support.

 "Luhan-hyung?" Sehun's voice is close, concern evident. There's pounding on the door. "Hyung, are you okay in there?" 

 His hair is dripping wet, his entire body dew in water. "D-don't come in! I'm fine!" Luhan stutters, quickly grabbing a towel. "I just almost slipped! I'm fine, really." There's silence at the door, and Luhan wonders if he left the hall. Sehun sighs, one of relief, before murmuring okay and removing himself from the bathroom door.

 Luhan silently curses in Mandarin, wrapping the towel around him tightly. He didn't grab his clothes before hopping in the shower, but his room was only down the hall. 

 Hastily brushing his teeth, he grabs his blue one and smears the toothpaste over the brittle, slamming it into his mouth and brushing. 

 He slips out of the bathroom successfully, scrambling to his bedroom before locking the door shut. The room is dark, and he struggles with finding the light switch, pleased when the lights flicker on along with his fans. The closet door of his is still ajar, from him rummaging through his clothes for those large tee-shirts. 

 Luhan always wore long-sleeves at night, but shorts for pajamas pants. He doesn't understand why his legs would be burning hot under the blankets, but his arms remain a little cold. The only problem is that his sleeves are much too long, and he hasn't had the time to ask Kyungsoo to pin them up. 

 So with his floppy sleeves, he walks to the living room where Sehun was still curled up on the couch, sleepiness glazing his eyes. It was a funny sight, tall Sehun folded up, battling sleep. It was really endearing; endearing enough for Luhan to crouch down in front of him, poking him. "It is late, and we both have worked tomorrow. Let's get you to bed."

 Sehun says nothing, at first, just blinks before his hand reaches outward. "So cute, hyung," Luhan nearly jumps back when his thumb presses against the corner of Luhan's lip. "You're like a kid, getting toothpaste on you." 

 Luhan swats his hand away, flushing furiously. "I'm your hyung." He stands up a bit too quickly and regains balance after nearly falling, again. "Let's get you to bed," he pulls the younger one up by the arm. "You can take my room." Luhan's brain pauses, just for a moment. He never really lets anyone on his bed; not even Yixing, who has been his best friend along with Jongdae. But the only exceptions were Hyunjae. 

 But there's no low irritation when he thinks of Sehun sleeping in his bed.

 "Then where will you sleep?"

 Luhan shrugs and points at the couch. "Here." 

 Sehun wiggles out of Luhan's grasp. "That's not right. I'll take the couch."

 "No."

 "I'm taking it."

 Luhan stares at him annoyed. "Fine, we'll share the bed." He yanks the blankets off Sehun, who gapes at him. He bundles up the blankets, wrapping his arms around it like a rice bag. "It's big enough." Luhan struggles to intertwine his fingers together because his sleeves are just too damn long.   
   
 "Are you sure it's alright?" Sehun's voice is low. "I can really take the couch. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."  
   
 Luhan stuffs two of the blankets in his closet, still holding onto two other. "If it wasn't, I wouldn't have offered." Luhan is surprised, too. It must've looked funny to anyone; for Luhan to share a room for the night with Sehunnie, for who he has only known for a month or so. But it didn't feel funny, much less different. "You're not making me uncomfortable; I'm comfortable. With you."  
   
 Sehun says something that's in between an _okay_ and _thank you_ , and follows Luhan into his room.

 Luhan's room isn't much. The king-sized bed remains in the center; a duvet of charcoal black drapes over it, and the pearl whites of the pillows are fluffed up at the head. There's also those miniature pillows that comes with the bed-set, the miniature pillows that end up on the floor after a night of Luhan thrashing around. There's his desk, too, which looks much different from Tao's or Sehun's. A clutter of books in both Chinese and Korean, along with his ties thrown down on the desk after a hard day of editing. His electronics are all plugged in unevenly, and it's just a complete mess. 

 His walls sing a tune not so differently, remaining bare. There's only one wall, though, decorated with photographs of him and his friends. Most of them are framed up professionally, except for a few Polaroids taken with Joonmyun's Polaroid, pinned up nicely with thumbtacks on his bulletin board. 

 He wonders if Sehun would mind if Luhan puts their photos of today on the wall, too. 

 "My room's not much, it's kind of boring, not like your dorm." Luhan rubs at the nape of his neck, a bit shy. Inner Luhan feels the need to gouge Luhan's eyes out. 

 Sehun drapes his arm around Luhan carelessly, a gesture so common between them these days. "It's modern, classy. I like it." Sehun's skin is cold, and it's a nice feeling against Luhan's warm neck, an effect of the steaming hot shower he took. Luhan grins into Sehun's arm, a bit relieved. 

 Flinging the blankets onto the bed, Luhan's bed dips as Sehun settles down on the edge of it. Luhan shuffles over to his desk, setting his alarm an hour earlier than usual. "The bed is big. Big enough, I think. But if I do accidentally kick you or somehow get too close to you, and you're uncomfortable, by all means just kick me or scream in my ear or something, just do something about it—"

 "You're rambling."

 "I uh, I am?"

 Sehun lifts himself up, his freckles even more noticeable in the lighting of Luhan's bedroom. "You're not going to make me uncomfortable." Luhan blanches at Sehun's imitation. "I'm comfortable. With you." 

 "Go to sleep, you doof," Luhan mutters, whacking Sehun's chest with his floppy sleeves. "We both have work tomorrow, and you have classes in the afternoon." Sehun laughs quietly, as if he'll wake the walls with his laugh. 

 Sehun slips into the covers awkwardly, pressing his head against one of the pillows. Luhan shuffles all of his papers into his bag, tossing it across the room, the bag slumping against his wall. Luhan turns around tentatively. Sometimes Kris or Baekhyun when they're over, tend to throw themselves onto Luhan's bed, knowing exactly that it pisses him off. To which Luhan proceeds to beat them over the head with his pillows. But that violent need isn't present in Luhan right now, even with Sehun snuggled under the duvet, on his bed.

 Luhan gingerly peels off the other side of the bed's covers, slipping his leg in first, before pulling his entire body into his covers. He wonders if he'll sleep tonight, without the quiet conversations of his TV to sooth him to sleep. He wonders if it'll be one of those restless nights, for in the morning to dose himself with coffee to make up for the lack of sleep. 

 He presses his head against the soft material of his pillow and glances at Sehun, whose eyes are shut. The slope of his nose catches Luhan's attention again, scattered freckles as companions to his near-perfect skin. His hair is droopy, falling in sleepy strands against his forehead, and he breathes out sleepy breaths. 

 "Good night, Sehunnie," Luhan whispers, and the lights are off, and there's nothing but the outline of Sehun's body next to his, his chest moving up and down in steady breathing. Luhan turns his back to him, burying his face into his pillow. Sehun says nothing, and he wonders if he's already asleep. Instead, there's the dip in the mattress, and the soft blue blanket draping over Sehun, covering the nape of his neck and touching his chin.

 Sehun secures the blanket tightly around Luhan, and he replies in a quiet tone, breath shaky and warm against Luhan's ear. "Good night, chocolate-hyung." 

 This is the room that God has forgotten, and where shadows make lonely company in the grueling hours of the sleepless night. But for once, Luhan is at rest and falls asleep to the lullaby of Sehun's breathing against the air of the bedroom, that has been isolated from the world.

 

   
  

➳➳➳

 Somewhere in between the slight snores and the kicking of blankets, they moved. Moved closer, to be exact.

 Sehun's arms end up wrapped around Luhan, and Luhan's legs end up entangled in Sehun's long ones. Some in between that, Sehun's blows hot breaths on Luhan's hair, and Luhan is pressed against Sehun's chest in slumber. And Luhan knows that he moves around in his sleep, for morning comes, and he'd be on the other side of the bed, or a leg hanging off the bed and the blankets suffocating him. 

 But to move around in his sleep and get entangled in someone else's legs, that's slightly different. 

 Luhan pries himself away from sleep's hold, the scent of a familiar shampoo; shampoo that Luhan had bought a few weeks ago at the mall when he was with Jongin. However, it's not the shampoo that Luhan used last night. Eyelids that weight, at least, a ton at the moment, he blinks incredibly slowly, to see nothing but Sehun's borrowed black shirt. 

 He can't move his legs either, entrapped in Sehun's, and the feeling that he associates with panic arises.

 Inner Luhan is crying and thrashing around. 

 Outer Luhan is stuck under Sehun and panicking.

 His eyes flash towards the alarm clock frantically, a bit of panic taken away when he sees that he has woken up twenty minutes before the alarm. He supposes that twenty minutes could help him get out of Sehun's grip. Luhan wiggles a little bit, but to no prevail—Sehun remains asleep.

 Luhan may need more than twenty minutes.

 A small, itsy, bitsy party of Luhan wants to just stay there because it's rather comfortable. It's comfortable with his bare thighs rubbing against the cotton fabric of Sehun's sweatpants, and the smell of fresh soap that clings to Sehun's skin. Luhan just might as well stay here and wing it, but  _work. Monday. Work._

 After five minutes of desperate wiggling, Luhan sighs against Sehun's chest. He wonders what wrong he did to be small. Why couldn't he have been at least as tall as Sehun? The world's unfair, and even crueler when it forces Luhan to wake up Sehun. He's not quite sure how to wake him up—when Jongdae crashes he just beats the younger one with a couch pillow until he falls out of bed. With Hyunjae, she wakes up earlier than Luhan on good days.

 It's literally moments like this where Luhan can believe in cruel, sadistic fatalism.

 "Sehunnie," Luhan whispers, pressing his fingers against his chest, tapping it quickly. "Sehun-ah, could you...maybe unchain me from you?" Luhan stares expectantly at him, and he stirs. His heart goes out to the younger one, who half-whines, and looks like the epitome of all innocuous things.

 Sehun does lift his legs up, but not his arms, defeating the whole purpose of Luhan's wake up call. He's groggy, and kind of resembles a puppy. Not in the way Baekhyun does, though, but more like a bratty puppy. "Is it morning already?" He's nuzzling his head closer to Luhan's head, and Luhan gulps, his Adam's apple feeling a bit too big right now. "You're so soft and warm," murmurs Sehun. "I don't get how you get sick so easily."

 Inner Luhan is slamming his head against outer Luhan's rib cages. 

 "Sehunnie, I think it's best if we get ready for work," Luhan's voice is surprisingly low and throaty, and he clears his throat to rid of that tone. "I'll get ready first; you can sleep for fifteen or twenty minutes while I do so." His arms still remain wrapped around Luhan's torso, before letting them slip off, fingers lingering just a bit on the bare skin of Luhan's stomach, where his shirt had risen up. 

 Hastily pulling down his shirt, he jolts up, a bit too quickly because he accidentally knees Sehun's thigh, who groans. "Sorry," squeaks Luhan, and stumbling out of bed with a red face.

 The bathroom is next to the bedroom, so he staggers in through with weak knees, holding himself up by the sink. Slowly turning his head, he stares in distaste at his reflection; pink cheeks and tousled hair. "Pull yourself together, Luhan. You already look like a preteen girl, don't need to act like one." He talks to himself in Chinese, because it's much easier to think. 

 

  

➳➳➳

Sehun is already awake by the time Luhan comes back out of the shower. The bed's already made, too, the small pillows exactly where they should be, the duvet without a crease. Sehun is sitting on the chair that's part of the desk; eyeing warily at Luhan's ties. "I said it once, but I should say it again," he picks up a gray square design one, "please, get a better sense of ties." Luhan chuckles, watching Sehun's horror unfold as he picks up another one, that has fireflies on them. 

 "I like them," Luhan snatches the firefly one out of his hands. "You can use the bathroom now; I should go change." The realization that he's still butt-naked with nothing but a towel burns up his neck, but he'll blame it on the shower heat. 

 "Thanks, hyung," Sehun waves remains of sleep still attached to his dark, bouncy hair.

 "Punk," mutters Luhan, and grabs for his work clothes, groaning when he pulls out a crinkled dress shirt. He realizes his clothes are bland, too. Grey, black, white, repeat. There's sometimes the hint of navy blue somewhere in his closet, but it's considerably rare. He wonders if Hyunjae will go with him shopping, and help pick out some lighter blue and possibly light green shirts. 

 Wrestling with the tiny buttons, he tightens a black tie around his collar, a gesture he's used to every morning. Following that gesture, he turns to the mirror, combing his hair up, the style of an editor at VERILLI.   
 

 

➳➳➳

   
 Luhan carefully lays out a sweatshirt for Sehun, placing it on the bed against the covers, so Sehun will know it's his. He doesn't have any jeans for Sehun—because damn that boy with too long legs—so he grabs a pair of Kris' jeans, washed but still here from the night Kris cried and fell asleep at Luhan's apartment after his girlfriend of nineteen months broke up with him. 

 Kris won't mind, anyways, the big doof already owning about ninety pairs of jeans.

 It's still too early, but Luhan hops to the kitchen, sporting only one pair of slipper because he somehow lost the other pair of the time he stepped into the bathroom and stepped out. He hops past the bathroom, the splashing of water and Sehun's humming seeping through the door as faint noises. It's pretty, Luhan thinks.

_ You're a pretty boy. _

_  It suits you. _

_  Please leave. _

 Kyungsoo had taught Luhan how to work the stove and oven while Hyunjae had kindly offered to teach how to boil vegetables and not to overcook the fish. Despite that, all of that had gone out the other ear. "Fuck my ass," Luhan curses under his breath, ripping apart pantry after pantry until he found the one that holds all the pots and pans. "Eggs, and fried rice, that's good." Luhan swings the refrigerator door open, remains of uncapped beer bottles and leftovers from Jongdae's restaurant stares at him. 

 Huffing at the sight of a sad refrigerator, he snatches the egg cartons and scoops rice out of  his cooker, cursing his bad habit of taking out.

 It isn't long until there's the shuffling of slippers, and the clearing of throat that makes Luhan turn around. "Good morning," Sehun waves, a small smile that's bright enough for Monday. His voice isn't dosed in sleep like earlier, and he seems fresher after a shower. 

 "Ah...good morning," Luhan turns his back to him, focusing on mixing up the rice. "Did you sleep well? I hope it wasn't too awful."

 He stretches his arms, and rolls his head back, smoothing out all his muscles for the day. "Best sleep I had."

 Mine, too, Luhan swallows, before clearing his throat, too. "Do they fit? The clothes?"

 Sehun nods, looking down at the faded jeans and sweatshirt. "They do. Whose jeans are these? They're too long for you."

 "Kris'."

 "Oh."

 Luhan winces, before shutting off the stove. There's sudden need to explain, even though Luhan tells himself he doesn't have to. You don't have to. I do. No. Yes. "Uh, Kris got drunk one night and slept on my couch for the night, I...I washed his jeans. But, never...got around to giving it," his Korean is wobbly right now, and he feels the need to throw himself on the floor. Idiot, idiot, he mentally abuses himself. He doesn't care.

 "Ah...you didn't have to tell me," Sehun rubs his arms, but there's a wide smile that reassures Luhan. 

 "I know." Luhan points towards the coffee machine. "The coffee is ready; I don't know how you like your coffee. Or if you like coffee."

Sehun picks up the two mugs near the coffee machine, one white and one had a smiley face. "I like coffee." There're the cute jars of sugar and cream in these stupidly adorable rilakkuma designs. "How do you like your coffee, hyung?"

 Luhan scraps the fried rice into a big ceramic bowl. "I like it black. I keep the sugar and cream for Hyunjae and stuff, though." Sehun hums in a reply, he just spins an empty spoon around. Swirling it around gently, Luhan is slightly pleased that the spoon doesn't hit the sides of the cup as Sehun does so.

 He slides the mug a little bit against the counter, and Luhan holds his breath, expecting it to spill. It doesn't. "Thanks. For the coffee." Luhan doesn't touch the mug, not waiting to burn his fingers, because well, he needs those fingers. Luhan's careful not to spill on his white shirt when he's mixing up the rice with chicken. 

 Luhan brushes elbows with Sehun, whose sleeves are pulled up behind his forehand, and the same for Luhan. He ignores the rapid pulse at his wrist and looks over at the younger one incredulously. 

 "The ratio of sugar to coffee is rather terrifying," Luhan points out flatly, watching him dip in his sixth spoon of sugar. "I am concern for your future health." He clamps the lid back on the cute jar, turning his entire body to Sehun so that his hips at against the marble counter. 

 "I hear those same words from Yixing-hyung, a lot, actually."

 "Wise words that should be taken," Luhan murmurs, balancing the bowl of rice in one hand, while grabbing leftover kimchi from the fridge in the other.

 Sehun follows him, helping out by pulling out the chairs to make way for Luhan. "The weather is warmer today. Much better than yesterday."

 "The seasons are in hell."

 "Delightly optimistic way of seeing so," Sehun smirks, plopping down on the chair with his smiley face mug.

 The dining table that has like, fourteen chairs seem less empty this morning. Luhan won't ever admit that he eats breakfast in the living room; because sitting in the one of fourteen dining chairs—bought because of his friends—seem increasing depressing on early mornings where only adults are awake. 

 Now, with two of the fourteen chairs occupied, it doesn't feel lonely. 

 

 

➳➳➳

 

"Are you going to come in for bubble tea?"

 Luhan shakes his head. "I don't think I have time..." he trails off, staring off at the time on his watch. He knows if he goes in there, he'll chat with Sehun, and he doesn't want to risk being late. 

 Sensing his distress, Sehun nods. "I'll be quick, just stay in the car, hyung." True to his words, Sehun does come rushing out, in hand a carton holding three bubble teas; for Luhan, Kyungsoo, and Chanyeol. "No need to pay; on the house," Sehun says quickly when Luhan pulls out his wallet.

 "But I—"

 "Drive safely hyung!" Sehun waves childishly, slipping into the bubble tea shop without a second glance, the bag of manhwa from last night disappears last.

 "Brat."

 

 

➳➳➳ 

 

   
"Bubble tea!" Chanyeol scrambles out of his seat, his tie flipping over his shoulders as he pulls out a cup. "Ohh, Sehun drew a beagle on mine. Does this mean he likes me?" Chanyeol flutters his eyelashes, slurping up the tapioca pearls up his straw.

 "He's calling you a bitch indirectly." Luhan snaps, placing the two other cups on his desk. "How the fuck do you get here before me? You're lazy. Completely lazy!" 

 "I live closer." 

 They both stop their morning bicker, and Luhan slides into his chair, staring at the articles that desperately need to be edited. Sipping on the bubble tea that's coated in ink of cartoony strawberries and chocolate bars. He holds it up to the light, reading the tiny writing. 

   
  _I'll wash the clothes~ thank u_  
   
 

Kyungsoo appears in their office twenty minutes later, arms hugging several files. "Could...Chanyeol, take these off me," he pants, and Chanyeol twitches his eye before plucking the stack out of his hands. 

 "So weak."

"I'm sorry I don't run on steroids," Kyungsoo fires back. "Leeteuk literally threw all this shit at me when I scanned my card." Kyungsoo grabs the remaining bubble tea on Luhan's desk, sipping it happily. 

 "What is it?" Luhan peers curiously at the stack of files, papers messily stuffed in between the egg-shelled folders. 

 "Beauty articles. Requests. Fucking interviews," Kyungsoo growls, staring menacingly at the tower of papers. "Why are people so demanding?" Luhan sighs, leaning his head back into the cushion of his chair. It's Monday, and the Mondays are always beating people's asses, specifically biting Kyungsoo's ass. 

 "You can work in our office today," Luhan offers in between sips of bubble tea. "You usually do, anyways." And it's true. The VERILLI offices are fucking huge, and though Kyungsoo does share an office with Minho, the guy doesn't mind because it means he can display his soccer action figures a bit more.

 "By the way," Kyungsoo flips through a file folder on the top, labeled '2.' "Minseok—uh, Xiumin, is coming back to South Korea for a visit, somewhere around Christmas, I think." 

 The bubble tea in Luhan's mouth seems to taste like ash all of a sudden, and it burns his mouth when he swallows. 

 "Oh, really?" Chanyeol turns around. "He's that friend you're talking about right? Ah, to think you were lying when you said you were friends with a soccer star."

 Kyungsoo hurls a file at him. "I showed you photos, you dipshit."

 "Photo shop is an option," Chanyeol points out. "Maybe that's what you use to make you look taller."

 Kyungsoo ignores him, and Chanyeol's face loses all colors. Whenever Kyungsoo flat out ignores him, it's absolutely terrifying. "Did you hear that hyung? Minseok-hyung is coming back?" Kyungsoo grins, waiting for Luhan to smile and well, be ecstatic. 

 "Yeah," Luhan flashes a shaky grin. "It'll be nice for him to hang out with the old crew."

 "Do you want his number?" 

 "Sure...give...give it to me later."

 "You think he'll like me?" Chanyeol ponders pen scrapping across the paper in edits. Chanyeol has a habit of writing too harshly and ripping the papers.

  "No," Kyungsoo replies shortly, and Chanyeol whines. 

  _remember remember remEMBER_

_  WHY DON'T YOU WANT TO _

_  Stop it. _

_  you're so pretty, remember RemeMBER _

  "I drank too much bubble tea," Luhan says, his back to his friends, to shield his ashen face and shaky hands. "Bathroom break." Chanyeol shouts something about a tiny bladder, and Kyungsoo kicks him, jeering about a tiny dick.

 Luhan barely makes it to the bathroom before slumping against the wall. He lags a bit as he stands up, a painfully slow turn of limbs and adjusting his back against the sleek tiles of the walls, his arms pressed against the light switch. Breathing jagged, he staggers to the sink, sinking his face immediately towards the dip of the surface with water spluttering out of the faucet. But no matter how many times Luhan drowns his skin in the chilled water, the burning doesn't leave him.

 But he keeps trying, splashing water into his face until he chokes and coughs.

 

 

➳➳➳

 

 "I almost thought you fell into the toilet," Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow, glancing up at the notes in front of you. "Wouldn't be surprised, your tiny ass could've fallen through the seat."

 "Let's not discuss tiny here," Luhan jabs, ignoring the small threats Kyungsoo makes as he takes two strides to his seat. "Call Seulgi, will you? I need these to Changmin before ten." Kyungsoo nods, dialing Seulgi's room using her office room. 

 "Why, what's at ten?" Chanyeol asks, the furious clicking of his mouse wavers slightly, and Luhan could see him typing up emails to send to Changmin's assistant. 

 "Idiot, we have a meeting at ten." Kyungsoo deadpans, stuffing another edit into the back of a manila folder. Frowning, Chanyeol quickly pulls out the planner that's stuffed in his suit pocket. Luhan snorts at the old fashion giant who still carries planners by the numbers.

 "I don't remember writing it down..." his fingers running up and down against the inked dates. "I must've forgotten."

 "Likely." 

 "Forgotten or not, we're still having a meeting at ten," Luhan shuffles through his papers, separately them into sections that range from fucked to majorly fucked. He really hopes this meeting won't drag past their lunch hour. Seulgi raps on their office door, not surprise to see Kyungsoo in the third seat they save for him, and drifts past the two to reach Luhan.

 "Luhan-ssi," she bows, clutching onto a binder clipped with papers. "Papers for Changmin?" she peers over at his desk, eyeing the cute bubble tea drink, amused. Luhan twitches, feeling the need to finish the drink and hide it from the world. 

 "The edits he wants for February, and tell him of the new demographic charts I sent via email." Luhan grips the papers in hand, and Seulgi reaches out her extended arms, pale enough to expose the faint green of veins. Her fingers brush against Luhan's wrist, and he immediately pulls down his cuffs, expressing a short smile. "Thanks." 

 Seulgi beams, and dips her head, strands of fire slips off her shoulders, and leaves the office without another word. There's a five-second of silence, before Chanyeol lets out a low whistling, rolling himself over to Luhan, kicking the wheel of Luhan's chair. "She likes you."

  _because you're pretty._

_  is that all i am? no no I'm not. _

 "Like, my ass." Luhan whines and pushes the chair holding Chanyeol farther away, bumping into Kyungsoo. He growls at the giant, who scoots away quickly, back to his messy desk. It's the same messy desk Luhan had stared at in college at their dorm; far from the likes of Sehun's desk.

 "Probably."

 "Oh shut your horny mouth Chanyeol," Kyungsoo says gruffly, messing up his hair by digging into the knots. "He has a girlfriend, Hyunjae. You know Luhan—he has no eyes for girls."

 "No eyes...for girls?" Luhan ashen, and none of the look up from their work to notice. 

 "Girls at the office, you love Hyunjae too much," clarifies Kyungsoo, who rips off a cap of another pen and Chanyeol flinches, only breathing when he's writing. 

 "Y-yeah," he mutters into his keyboard. "I love Hyunjae too much." I love Hyunjae, love, love.

 Maybe repeating it over and over will help with making it come true. And he does, does until the name Hyunjae unhinges itself from the face of the girl that he met four years ago. And the name falls off, the word bringing not her face anymore, but a blank mind.

 

 

➳➳➳

   
 

"I really think you need how to cook."

 Luhan looks up from his second glass of sprite and raises an eyebrow at Jongdae. "I really think you need to let me eat. It's your restaurant at least." Stabbing the burger with his chopsticks, he scrutinizes at the sight. "Why the hell did you give me chopsticks with burgers?"

Jongdae shrugs, ripping off his apron and left just in his black work clothes. He plops down next to Luhan, letting his sudden seat change startle Luhan. "You didn't notice."

 "Some friend you are," Luhan fires at him, waving the chopsticks around until Jongdae takes them, claiming a safety hazard on them. "And I can cook. Ramyun, rice, and eggs included."

 "That's a great expansion of food choices," Jongdae says sarcastically, wiping off small droplets of the dew from the Sprite off. "Seriously. Kyungsoo or anyone, like me, can teach you."

 "Or I can just eat here."

 Jongdae sighs, and Luhan notices the perm of his hair wearing down. "That's not the point, yeah eat here, my food is fucking great. But it's always nice to know some survival skills. Like, cooking."

 "Yeah, yeah, OK." Luhan waves him off, stuffing a salty fry in his mouth. "Teach me or something when we're free." Jongdae gives in and comes back with a plate of mini-burgers for himself. "What are you doing after you close for the night? I have beer cans at my place. And cable."

 "I have beer cans and cable at my place too, ass," Jongdae wipes off the greasy residue on his fingertips. "I got to head over to Yixing and drop off some fresh fruits. Jongin might cry if Yixing makes him do another dance again."

 At the sound of Yixing's studio, Luhan perks up. "You're stopping by?" He wants to see Sehun dance. Luhan had made a cold-stone promise to himself yesterday to see him dance, dance next to Taemin and Jongin.

 "Yeah, want to go? You have worked early tomorrow, and I'll stay for a bit to chat with Yixing, so you're probably too—"

 "I want to go," Luhan interrupts the blabbering Jongdae, who shuts his jaw and shrugs. "You know I can't sleep well, anyways." Luhan avoids his friend's eyes by staring intently at his nearly gone fries, tapping mindlessly against the wooden table. 

 Jongdae looks at him for a long time, chewing his food slowly. "You seem less tired than usual today, though. I'm glad." Luhan shrugs, and bites down on his lower lip to avoid saying anything else, saying things like how he slept because of Sehun. There's nothing on his plate now, aside from the crispy remains of the fries, ones that are too small to eat.

 "When is your next check-up?" Jongdae asks, the curious flick of light in his eyes tells Luhan that he's been meaning to ask. Luhan presses his cheek into his shoulder, almost exasperatedly. Hyunjae had already asked him earlier after his meeting, and now Jongdae.

 It's not as if he's sincerely annoyed, but the pity marks etched in his best friend's face and girlfriend's face is overwhelming. 

 

_ It's all because you're TOO pretty. _

_  Take your medications, Luhan. _

_  I don't. _

 "I don't know." Luhan rubs the nape of his neck tiredly. "It's not important. I'll schedule one soon." He waits for the familiar you better, but Jongdae doesn't say anything, only to rise out of his seat with cluttering dishes. Luhan slushes around his soda, which is already watered down from not being touched for a few minutes. 

 "I'll need to cut up some fruits in the back," Jongdae says, sliding Luhan's plate out of the way and into his hand. "Give me a few minutes."

 "Okay."

 Jongdae comes back out of the kitchen, out of his work clothes. His normal clothes aren't anything different from his work ones, anyways. Really, the only thing that's missing is the little snitched up logo that says,  _"EXODUS RESTAURANT— Kim Jongdae."_

 "Ready?" Luhan slips back into his jacket because he looks far too stupid just in a dress shirt and tie. Jongdae nods, shaky the mixed fruit in the plastic container. 

 "Take off the tie, idiot," Jongdae motions towards Luhan's tie. "You're out of work and we're going to a dance studio." Jongdae wraps around his free hand on Luhan's shoulders, pulling him down just for mockery. Luhan can't ignore the strange difference between the weight of Jongdae's arms and the weight of Sehun's arms on his shoulders.

 "Yeah, yeah, whatever," Luhan sticks out his tongue just to spite Jongdae, but wrestles the tie out of his collar, stuffing it into his suit coat.

 

 

➳➳➳

 

 

 "One...two...three," Yixing outlines the dance room, not taking his eyes off his three students. "One, two, three, repeat." He looks up momentarily to kindly wave at his two friends with mixed fruit, before turning his attention back to the dancers.

 The music is blasting, and it's a tempo that Luhan can recognize as a song Yixing composed very quickly last summer, specifically for Taemin's practice. Jongdae whistles in awe, watching Jongin turn from a klutzy idiot that worked at his restaurant, to a dancer practicing for his recital. 

 Luhan's jaw drops slightly, and he's clutching onto his coat for measures. Sehun's there; there, right behind Taemin in their choreography. Much like Taemin's, his tank top is loose and dips dangerously down to his chest, exposing sweat and milky skin—molded with the abs of a consistent dancer.

 He's not wearing the red cap from yesterday, but sporting a navy one, masking his hair and forehead. There's a mass of several empty water bottles next to the couch that has all their phones on. 

 Sehun, Sehun is pretty; pretty in front of a wall of mirrors, surrounded by energetic dancers and the squeaks of shoes on quick dance moves. He's beautiful like this, eyes trained on nothing except the mirror, waiting for his next stance.

 "Man," Jongdae folds his arms against his chest, clearly impressed. Luhan is too. "Why didn't I become a dancer?"

 "Because you dance like an octopus," Luhan murmurs, not taking his eyes off Sehun, even as he goes behind Jongin or Taemin. "That's why your prom date left you for Kris after that one dance."

 "Oh, shut up," Jongdae says a bit too loudly, catching Sehun and Taemin's attention for a split second during a jump in their dance. Taemin makes a weird face, teasing his hyungs while Sehun makes eye contact with Luhan. There's something in Sehun's eyes that makes Luhan wants to wiggle out of his invisible grasp.

 "Keep dancing, after you finish the set it's break." Yixing clasps his fingers together, and strolls over to his two friends, eyes glinting. "Thanks again for coming."

 "You might as well sponsor his restaurant," Luhan jokes, punching Yixing's chest lightly.

 "And you," Yixing pats Luhan's back roughly, payback. "What are you doing here? You got to sleep. At least try." There's no tone of chastisement in his voice and the presence of a dimple that takes the seriousness away.

 Luhan scoffs, tossing the jacket onto the table. "So quick to get rid of your long time friend." Luhan pats his heart mockingly, feigning phony ass tears. Yixing shakes his head, ignoring Luhan to check up on the dancers. 

 "Right Taeminnie, right foot first!" Yixing makes a sudden wave of his hand, quick feet to demonstrate. "And Sehunnie, use more of your wrist rather than your arms."

 "Got it 쌤!" Taemin shouts, sweat lining the edge of his jaw as he follows Sehun and Jongin's movements. Sehun flicks his wrist, and Yixing is pleased.

 "Big recital?" Luhan stares at Sehun, whose concentration level is as high as it could get. His stare is more of awe, seeing the younger one make quick movements with his feet. 

 "I want to get them into an agency." Yixing fumbles with the fan, flipping it on and pointing it towards Taemin and the rest. "They deserve it—hell, they more than deserve it." 

 The beat of the music dies down, along with their energy. Taemin drops to the ground, sweat clinging to their shirts and skin, but there's a certain glow to him; a happy glow. The same is for Jongin and Sehun, who leans against the mirror instead, placing a hand on their chest to catch their breath. 

 Their eyes catch again, but this time, Sehun smiles. "Hyung," his words shudders while he regains his steady breathing. Where they were dancing were a bit farther away from where Jongdae and Luhan were standing, but in four quick strides—or leaps, fucking frog—he was in front of him. "When you said you wanted to see me dance, I didn't think you were serious."

 "Why wouldn't I be serious?" Luhan sticks his hand into the cooler decorated with rainbowy unicorn stickers. He presses the chilled water bottle towards Sehun, who takes it quickly, a muffled thanks from under the bottle. 

 "Hyung~" Jongin grabs Jongdae and pulls him into a sweaty hug, and Jongdae shrieks. "God bless you and your ramyun hair for bringing watermelon."

 "God damn you if you don't take your sweating ass off of me!" Jongdae shouts, pushing Jongin away who's grinning cheekily. "You're not allowed to eat the watermelons. They're only for Taemin and Sehun." Taemin makes a whooping sound while Jongin whines and slaps Sehun repeatedly on the shoulder.

 "Luhan," Yixing pulls out a chair for him. "How are you holding up at work by the way? Ran into Hyunjae a few days ago and she said it got worse." Luhan shakes his head, ignoring Sehun's eyes. Everyone knows. Everyone, though, except for Sehunnie.

 "Worse?" Sehun repeats, stabbing a sliced up honeydew with a plastic fork.

 "My sleeping," Luhan says with finality, not wanting to say anything more. And he doesn't.

 And they understand that.

 Jongdae clears his throat, ushering the four of them to eat. "You are doing well in class, right?" Jongdae raises an eyebrow, hand resting on his cheek that covers a tiny mole. "Great dancers, but class?"

 The two coughs, except for Sehun, who's chewing on his honeydew mindlessly. "I'm fine." Sehun says confidently, and Yixing nods, dimple flashing.

 "Jongin? Taemin?"

 "Numbers don't define me, nor do letters," Jongin says loudly, raising a stabbed watermelon up in the air. "Dance is me. I am dance."

 "Then I guess the number of years you'll be working at Jongdae's restaurant won't define you," Luhan replies calming, and Yixing chokes on his water. Jongin glares at his hyungs, huffing out sharply.

 "I'm doing okay. I swear. Kyungsoo helps with math at least. And Kris is giving a hand and there with English," he sighs, puncturing another cantaloupe. "I'll get accepted into an entertainment company; I will." Taemin nods vigorously, mouth stuffed with grapes. He looks like a chipmunk to Luhan.

 "Are you not going into dance?" Jongdae turns to Sehun, who turns suddenly small under the attention of everyone.

 "I do it as a thing to keep me fit," Sehun admits, and Yixing pats him on the back. "Animation is what I'll do, hopefully."

 "You'll be great at it," Luhan assures him, and Sehun brightens up, quirking a small smile towards him. He's wearing BB cream again, Luhan notice. There's a slight fade in the cream, the faintest shadow of his freckles beaming towards him. 

 "Hey, Sehun," Taemin waves towards him, and he turns his attention away from Luhan. "Look at this." Jongin and Sehun lean closer to Taemin, who holds out the phone a bit out for the three of them to see.

 "I don't want you watching porn without earphones," Yixing says calmly. "Or you ejaculating all over my studio." Jongdae snorts a laugh into his palm of his hand, and Luhan stares pointedly at Taemin, who's red-faced and spluttered, all that and irritated.

 Taemin doesn't look impressed. "Stop it hyung, Kibum just sent me a photo of these shoes he found in a Japanese store." He holds it up for the older ones to see, and all but Yixing looks uninterested. 

 "What's so great about them?"

 "They're dancing shoes," Jongin says dubiously as if Luhan and Jongdae were too stupid to understand.

 "Also expensive shoes, but look at the cool design!" Taemin's eyes are gleaming so brightly; the whites in his pupils nearly collides with the whites of his eyes.

 Luhan scoffs and Jongdae downs the rest of his water bottle. "I'm too old for this," Luhan mutters, plucking off a grape and popping it in his mouth. The three continues to gush over the photo, Sehun animatedly waving his hands around about the lightweight of the shoes. 

 "I feel old," Jongdae whispers to Yixing and Luhan, who laughs and squeezes both sides of his arms. Sehun stops for a spare moment to look at the three, dropping a crooked grin before turning back to his dancing buddies.

 "Doesn't it remind you of when we were in our second year in high school, and Yixing tried to take us into his dance class?" Jongdae nudges Luhan, and he cringes. Yixing was already in several dance classes, surprisingly since he had just moved to Korea like Luhan. Yixing would say soothing words in Chinese to Luhan about how graceful Luhan would look like a dancer. And in broken Korean—not anymore—to Jongdae about expanding his horizons. 

 Nothing expanded after class, though, except the swollen ankle Jongdae miraculously got after, and Luhan is just despising everything.

 "Maybe if you two had stuck with it, we would've had a bigger studio," Yixing offers, but Jongdae's eye twitches and Luhan laughs drearily. 

 "Uh huh, and the next week would resort to Jongdae in a full body case and me with physical therapy," Luhan replies, a contemptuous smile topping it off rather nicely.

 "I'd like to see you dance, hyung." Sehun pipes up, and Taemin's phone is away.

 "Would you also like to attend my funeral?"

 "You can't be that bad."

 "Luhan broke down when the dance instructor started speaking rapidly in Korean, and he was still barely speaking it at that time." Yixing gives voice, and Luhan hisses at him. "It's okay; Jongdae was worse." Jongdae groans, fisting up his ramyun hair. Sehun laughs, nearly choking on the piece of watermelon. 

 "We're leaving," Jongdae stands up abruptly. "I refuse to take anymore abuse. And to think this friendship was commensurate in terms of loyalty!"

 "Maybe you should've gone into theater."

 "What he means is," Luhan pulls Jongdae in for a headlock. "We got work tomorrow." He looks to Sehun, as if to say, you have worked, too. Sehun gaze pierces through Luhan's, and it's tingly. Jongdae shouts meaningless things to Jongin about being late to work again will get his tiny ass fired, and about Taemin's constant distraction to Jongin at work. Jongdae then turns to Sehun, who looks expectantly at him. Jongdae lifts up a hand, only to have it go up and down in a silent argument with himself.

 "Aish, I have no bad thing to say about you, except maybe for..." Jongdae digs his elbow into Luhan's stomach, who cries out in slight pain. "Potentially poisoning Luhannie with bubble tea." Sehun zips his lips together in a short-circuit smile. Luhan feels as if he could go to jail for 1st-degree murder if another of his friend mentions bubble tea.

 "Hey!" Luhan kicks the back of Jongdae's calf with his hard-as-hell leather loafers. "I'm older, call me Luhannie again and I swear." Jongdae shrieks out of the sudden shock, followed up by his signature  _whyyyyyyyyyyyyy._  Luhan kicks at Jongdae again for him to stand up off from the studio floor, and leaves the container of fruit on the table. Jongin will bring it back to Jongdae, anyways. Taemin hollers something about driving safely, and Jongin follows up that with mentioning how he may be late, again, for his morning shift at the restaurant. 

 Sehun doesn't say anything, except wave to them when everyone else does. 

 They're outside of the studio, streets dark except for the dull yellow of lights from the street lamps. There's not a lot of cars in the parking lot; the two of them recognizing only four cars, not including their own. "I can really feel the winter coming," Jongdae makes a show of shivering. "You're going to wear more layers when winter shits on us, right?"

 "Always have, always will." Luhan slips into the car; hands gripped on the wheel as Jongdae hops into the passenger seat, humming along to a pop song. Slipping over the seat belt against his chest, he stares warily at Jongdae, oblivious Jongdae. "Buckle up your seat belt, stop making me have to remind you."

 "Did you know seat belt tend to kill more lives than actually—"

 "Just seat belt, Jongdae." 

 The streets of Hongdae are alive, bleeding of energy that Luhan lacks as the tiredness of the day catches up with him, and tears him by the shoulders.  
 

 

 

➳➳➳

   
 9:46 PM.

Sehunnie: sleep well, you slept peacefully last night 

 

➳➳➳

Kyungsoo   _does_ give Luhan Minseok's number. He even went as far as to giving his two emails, just in case he needed further contact. "Catch up with him," Kyungsoo's words are unfiltered by the morning's wake and the overdose on coffee. "You guys were like leeches to each other back then. I'm surprised you didn't have his number already." They have a deadline on their edits, and the same need to revise everything has driven them off the edge to stress.

 He sometimes wonders , if Kyungsoo knows. And if he does, the cruelty is far above the stakes Luhan can reach. To kindle a fire that's much too warm in his chest, forcing his head to duck into the water. But Kyungsoo can't know. It's not possible, honest. That's Luhan's just being silly; his quisling voices are constantly prattling. 

 But he can pretend, right? That he's not the one of two people carrying the burden. The one of two people whose name is Minseok. 

 "We ended up being too busy," Luhan says, shuffling up the papers loudly, long enough for his lower lip to stop its quivering. Chanyeol's out of office for today. Three cups of bubble tea in his left hold, while his right hand held up the phone to tune into Chanyeol's incoherent grunting and moans of how he'll curse Baekhyun to the depths of hell.

 "Baekhyun tried to cook samgyeopsal," Kyungsoo spoke up after Luhan pressed END call. He said it like it should explain why, and it probably does. Since morning, he's been spinning in Chanyeol's desk chair comfortably. There's an extra cup of bubble tea, which he handed off to Taeil, the intern when he stopped by. "Want to come over and eat, got groceries today." Luhan hums. Kyungsoo must feel lonely, he thinks, to invite Luhan so graciously. Though the thought of Kyungsoo's homemade food seems to tempt him and swell up, he can't.

 Luhan spares a moment to look up from his email. "Can't, got dinner with Hyunjae." Luhan pulls an apologetic smile before dropping it, eyes darting around his screen at all the emails from work. There's a lot to be done, and Luhan has been putting them off by the dates only to have them hamper his hours and evenings. It could've been worse had Changmin decide to collapse a page or two for future editions. 

 However, Changmin did cut off a column a few weeks ago, sending Minho into silent rage and Chanyeol to a bar to down his salty tears and hiccups. And of silent rages and fits, Kyungsoo sat there consolidating the sleep-deprived man while Luhan took his position at photo shoot supervising for a few days.

 Kyungsoo puckers his lips together to sip up his drink while maintaining doe-eye contact. "No ring yet?" 

 "Ring?"

 He rolls closer to Luhan, forcing him to look up from the email he's currently composing. "Yeah, ring. four years steady, go for it." Kyungsoo makes a show of humming the traditional wedding song, and Luhan feels the need to sock a wall. 

 "It's..." Luhan taps against the edge of his keyboard, a bit too rapidly. "Early. Too soon."

_ You need her. _

_ Tie the knots _

_ I can't. _

 "You should invite Jongin. He doesn't have dance practice tonight, right?" Kyungsoo snorts but his owl eyes seem to dilate even more—heck if that's even possible—and goes on to ignore Luhan for the remaining hour before lunch. Luhan wishes Kyungsoo would say something, or breath loudly. Because with only the occasional flick of the wrist and papers, his voices are much louder.

  _So pretty._

_  Pretty boy. _

_  BEAUTIFUL. _

_  lovely little boy _

 

 The ringing in his ear doesn't stop. It's an incogitable thought, really, but Luhan needs him. He needs Sehun to drive away the voices like Sunday, to hold him again because he's scared of heights.

 But it's far past his break to call.

➳➳➳

   
 

 

   
"Did you not have worked today?" Hyunjae jumps, clutching onto the handle of the pot, surprised.

 "You scared me, oppa." Luhan feels a bit resigned, pulling frustratingly at his tie. Somewhere in between the short walk from the front door to the kitchen, Luhan has already torn off his tie and jacket; his briefcase ducked somewhere during the ripping of tie and coat. "No, just back early. Jinri and Suyeong took care of things for me." Hyunjae hums, pushing the diced onions off the slightly damp board. 

 Hyunjae still doesn't know that Luhan hates onions.

 "Ah, alright." Luhan carelessly grabs the bottled up 'Yoga Vera' and pours two cups; the cloudy white of the drink sloshing around. It smells nice, whatever Hyunjae was cooking. It was broth, but that's all that came to mind. Nine years weren't enough for Luhan to memorize all of the Korean dishes though he genuinely tries his best. There's still that mini green notepad he got from Joonmyun in high school, scribbled with 17-year-old Luhan's handwriting.

 "How was work?" Hyunjae swirls the ladle easily with the flick of her wrist, eyes squinting behind wispy bangs. "You seem tired."

 "Chanyeol was sick today," Luhan gulps all of the aloes, the remaining pulp sticks to his wet lips. "I took one of his edits to do." The editorial team consists really of seven, all juggling obnoxious people and future layouts. He refills the cup with more; the taste it leaves is cleansing; soft. Maybe he drinks it for that. Or maybe, Luhan drinks it because it'll wash away the lethargy. 

 "Poor guy," Hyunjae twists the stove off. "From what?"  
   
 The way between the kitchen and dining room remains without a door, leading towards the rather lonely dining table. This apartment complex had been a catch; bought during his last year in business school. "Baekhyun's deleterious samgyeopsal." He slumps down like a slug to it's hiding place into one of the chairs, his chair. There's the faded leather of the seat from Luhan's ass. Hands outreaching for the tablet, Hyunjae laughs, prettily. 

_ Just like you. _

_Pretty boy._  
 "You'd think he'd be a better cook since he lives alone." Hyunjae taps against the waistband of her jeans, staring at the rising bubbles of the broth. 

 "Are you making doenjang jjigae?" Luhan makes a guess, remembering the stew he shared with Kris on a highway stop between Seoul and Busan. Daenjang Jjigae didn't look anything like what Hyunjae is making—but there's only like, two broths he can think of off the top of his head.

 Hyunjae pulls back a strand of a curl behind her ear, the strayed one that escaped her elastic. "Yukgaejang."

 Luhan notices the vase of white lilies on the table, fresh and a stranger to this apartment. "Yukgaejang takes a long time to cook, Hyunjae-ah."

 Hyunjae grins, clasping her hands together. There's the jingle of the charm bracelet he gifted to her last Christmas, now bejeweled with more and more charms that seem to clutter against each other, fighting for space on the tiny hooks.

 Luhan pretends not to notice how a lot of the charms are from Joonmyun.

 "I let myself in your apartment around 1," Hyunjae finally takes a sip out of the cup of aloe Luhan had laid out for her. "We don't have dinner often." Her voice is passive, but light. She extends an arm to fix a crooked flower in the new vase. 

 "I've been busy..."

 "Yeah, I know," Hyunjae slips into the chair beside Luhan, and Luhan presses SEND on the business email. "How was it, playing Seoul tour guide to—Sehun, right?" They're allowed to ignore the yukgaejang, letting the beef simmer in along with the broth. 

 "Sehun," Luhan says slowly, thoughts of the tall, freckle blessed kid bubbles up too quickly, and he can't suppress it this time. "I took him to Yeouido with the trees and fountains, and Namsan." Luhan digs his fingernails into his palm, the sort of jittery volts up inside him. There's that urge, to see all that again. To see Yeouido and Namsan even if he has seen the places hundreds of times. 

 He wants to see them with Sehun, who kept him warm. 

 "Did he see light show Namsan or morning Namsan?" Hyunjae is hanging off the chair, wrist exposed along with her charm bracelet. Silver fits her, he thinks. 

 Luhan blinks sleepily. He'll kill Chanyeol for that extra editing, once he's better, of course. "Light show Namsan." Hyunjae doesn't ask anymore because she's up out of her chair and back to tend the soup. _Sehun._  It's odd, to have spent the whole day and night together, but carry on their normal routine. A normal routine that has Sehun squiggling stupid puns and weird pictures on cups, and bidding goodbyes in a rush.   
   
 Luhan pulls out his phone, pressing the ON button to see for notifications. There are none, except for the little reminder note that he has an email to write up later in the evening. It's only fair he thinks, to text Sehun first. For him to see the little kakaotalk yellow icon flash on his phone. 

 His thumb is hovering over the set of stickers he owns, when Hyunjae peeks out from the kitchen, talking about the scallions and pepper for the soup. He's probably studying. Or sleeping. Or whatever, Luhan tells himself, and stuffs the phone back in his pocket, no message sent. "Yeah, scallions. Just a bit, though," he shouts and runs to his room to change out of the extremely stuffy dress that's in dire of ironing. 

➳➳➳

 

 

 

There's a lot of scallions, and sprinkled onions that remain floating on the soup. Luhan wonders if he'll ever get around to telling Hyunjae his dislike for onions. He doesn't like them; the taste seems to be of an acquired taste to him; a taste he'll never like. He wonders if it's worth it to tell her anyways. Hyunjae likes onions. 

 Hyunjae mumbles something about eating it quickly while scooping enough for two of them in separate bowls, ones that he and Joonmyun bought in Insadong District a few years ago. He settles down, arms propped against the table, heat from the soup attacking his bare forearms. She scoots in his seat next to him, her elbow pressed against his as she hands metal chopsticks to him. "Let's eat well," she says, clinking the chopsticks together. Luhan repeats after her and dips the ladle of his spoon into the soup. 

 He'll make himself like the onions. Or at least, look the part.

 "How's your layouts going? I heard from Joonmyun that you've been pressing in extra hours for them." She taps the spoon against the rim of the bowl.

 "You talk to Joonmyun a lot?" Luhan can't help it, but there's no passive aggressiveness in his tone. "And how does he know? Did Kyungsoo tell him?"

 Hyunjae doesn't say anything for a few seconds after him. "Minho did, you know, how he edits a lot for Joonmyun's papers in your magazine." His face is warmed up by the broth as he leans in, sipping up the soup. It's tasty; with a homemade feel to it, as Hyunjae remains the top three in his favorite cooks, stepping beside Jongdae and Kyungsoo.

 "I have. I need those layouts...final products," he stops before he can spill them all out. Hyunjae isn't one for his stress. She's one for his organization, forged chains that binds him down to the ground and keep him safe.

  _She's your safety._

_  YOUR BACKDROP. _

_  Your savior. _

 "I hope you can get some sleep." She zips her lips together, chopsticks hovering midway between the soup and her. "Have you...gotten an appointment yet?" Maybe this was why she wanted dinner with him. To check up on him, on Luhan. He recalls the tiny orange bottles that sit on his cabinet, collecting dust against the plastic that holds his capsules. He pushed it behind the boxes of toothpaste, away from his line of sight.

 "Second week of December," he replies quietly, and the soup doesn't seem as appetizing as before, despite being made by Hyunjae. He still gathers enough broth into his spoon, and his voice is jaded with weariness. "I'll go this time." Luhan can't taste the onions. In fact, he can't taste anything. The air seems dry.

 "I know."  
   
 There's a nebulous air that seems to thickens as dinner goes on, up until their bowls are drained and left with only small splashes and puddles at the bottom of the bowl, scallions as ships. The atmosphere doesn't seem to be as sprightly as before, but it's breathable now. "Thanks for the Yukgaejang." Luhan says, and his words are as muddled as his thoughts. Hyunjae smiles, even if Luhan is messing up his words with Chinese.

 The sink is clear now, and so is Luhan's head. He's waiting by the front door, clutching Hyunjae's coat and umbrella that she brought along. "It's raining now," she says, slipping out of the pastel pink slippers and into her flats. "Sleep well." Her hair had struggled itself away from her bun, limping strands resting against the air.

 "Drive safely," Luhan says, wrapping his arms around her shoulders in one tight squeeze, before letting go. "Thank you, again."   _For asking. For keep me safe. For staying here._

 "Of course, Luhan." Hyunjae shows a jaunty wave, before disappearing into the elevator that leads to the lobby. 

 And the apartment is quiet. Silence lays itself like a heavy duvet over the space, bringing Luhan down to his knees against the soft mattress of his bed. His breathing accounts for sound, a noise too loud for him that competes against the pitter patter of the downpour of the rain. There's not much Luhan can do when it rains, because the tension in his mind tightens and spreads a headache whenever he's in the rain.

 His apartment is dangerous, providing enough isolation for his own thoughts that runs too deep, racing through his veins. His thoughts run through the masses of emails, emails that belongs to his father. His mind slips too closely to Sehun, whose body had fit against him and the bed so perfectly a few days ago.

 It truly is the place that God forgot.

➳➳➳

   
Routines carry on, waking up groggily from the few hours of sleep, and sporting a tie that Sehun mocks every morning while careful not to spill the tea onto the counters. Luhan isn't the only one who's sleepy these days, the pale shine of purple pulling at Sehun's skin, hastily covered up with concealer. It doesn't take a genius to figure out the core of it. Sehun would dismiss it swiftly on the mornings Luhan stays a bit longer at the counter with Sehun right next to him, shoulders brushing too closely and lingers. 

 It's Saturday though, and routines stay the same except for a change of hair and a change of attire. Luhan slips into the shop earlier this time, though, seeing Ten windexing the glass windows. "Ohh, Luhan-ssi!" Ten drops the bottle on the ground easily, and Luhan jumps, waiting for it to spill. "You're here again, hi!" Ten waves with the rag in his hand, apron tied messily around his waist.

 "No need for formalities, Ten," Luhan tugs at his shirt awkwardly, the sleeves feeling snug against the warmth of the shop. Ten beams, and wipes his hands on his apron.

 "Okay, hyung." Ten plucks the bottle of Windex off the ground, wiping away the window a few more times. "Sehun isn't here yet," he adds, and Luhan flushes.

 "That's okay," Luhan snuggles himself into one of the larger bean chairs, feeling the beads in the bag press against the naked skin where his shirt has risen. "I don't have anything to do today til later, is it okay if I just hang out here—?"

 Ten laughs, and it reminds him of Sehun's chuckle. "You're nearly apart of the bubble tea shop scenery. Always welcome." Apart of the scenery. Luhan feels a tingle in his chest, but it quickly disappears when Ten hops behind the counter. "Can I get you anything?" Ten leans against the counter, playing with the wrapped straws in the jar.

 Luhan plays with one of the pillows on near him, picking at what looked like a peach pillow. It doesn't take awhile for him to see it's the same ones that Sehun sends to him in kakaotalk. "Yeah, but what is exactly Sehun's special?" Luhan gives the peach a squeeze. "He never tells me, though I order it everyday." Whenever Luhan asks him after being handed the drink, Sehun just shakes his head and grins, telling him it's his special and that's all that matters.

 It irritates the fuck out of him.

 "Ah," Ten bends a yellow straw, crinkling the plastic wrap. "Taro and a bunch of other things. Mostly taro." Ten grins, his words thick with an accent but it's rather adorable for a smiley kid like him. "Satisfied?" Luhan sinks down into the bean chair, a muffled yeah and a pondering finger on his chin. 

 "I might take a large of your special, like Sunday—"

 "Take mine, take mine!" A teenager boots the door open, striding into the shop with a beanie that flops against the nap of his head. "Take mine, not Ten's."

 Ten makes a face at him, staring with distaste at his shoes. "I just Windex that glass. You probably step in some pigeon poop."

 "Probably," he shrugs halfheartedly and bares a pearly smile at Luhan. "Luhan, right? Of course it is take mine. Take my special!" 

 "How do you know—?"

 Ten punches the new person on the shoulder when he walks behind the counter to snatch up his apron. "Come on, Sehun-hyung gushes about you and how great you are literally in between customers and making the tea." The kid scrunches up his nose, ruffling up his head, so his bean falls into his palm. 

 "I'm Jaehyun," he snaps out a hand instantly, appearing in front of him, startling Luhan. He giggles, apron wrapped around his arm. "Sehun-hyung is right, you are jumpy." 

 "A little, yeah." Luhan hesitantly gives Jaehyun his hand to shake, and he beams, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Does he talk about me that much?" The back of his neck burns with pinkness, and he's glad they're covered by the bean bag's material.

 "It gets annoying," Ten pipes up, and quickly fixes himself. "Not you're annoying, but the fact that he talks about you 24/7 is a bit much." Luhan's sure the two can see the rosy pink of his skin creeping up to his cheeks now, spreading like wildfire. Jaehyun hops out of the area of beanbags, letting Ten take care of a customer that came in with a little boy. "He likes you." Ten continues, checking over the counter for any mess. 

 "I'm glad."

 Jaehyun's eyes flickers with something, eyebrows raised in thought. He looks over at Ten, who smiles softly and shakes his head. "I'll be back with your Jaehyun special," he winks, and Ten sticks his tongue out at him before flashing a charismatic smile towards the woman with her child.  
   
 Ten waves to the woman and little boy good bye, who leaves hand in hand with two cups of bubble tea. He turns back to the older one, and there's an ear-to-ear grin that widens the apples of his cheeks. "Luhan-hyung," he taps the counter and motions to the chair. "Sehun might not be here for a bit, he's always getting here fifteen minutes before you and," he turns to look at the clock, "you're a lot earlier today."  
   
 "It's a nice shop." Luhan says, turning his head to the window. Seoul is already waking up, more excitement that overflows because it's a Saturday. "Cozy...in a modern way, I guess." Ten laughs, patting his chest in giggles. Luhan lifts himself off the bean bag, scurrying towards the seat at the counter.  
   
 "It's a lot more crowded in the afternoons and late mornings. More so later mornings because they're all looking for Sehun," he drawls, tracing his fingers against the menu. Luhan chuckles but his knuckles find themselves unclenching under the counter. "Jeno works here afternoon shifts, and the noonas love him."  
   
 "Jeno?"   
   
 "Cute kid, he works here after school." Jaehyun pops out of the kitchen, clutching a rosy tinted drink, with floating white pearls that hang at the bottom.  
   
 "Jaehyun's delightful-ultra-tasty-strawberry-watermelon-white tea special," he says in a half shout, sliding it across the table while hooking an arm around Ten, pulling him in.   
   
 Luhan hands Jaehyun a folded up 5000 won. "That's a mouthful," Luhan grins, and stabs the plastic film with a straw. He's sipping on the fruity tea when Ten opens his mouth.  
   
 "Can we steal you?"  
   
 Luhan chokes on a pearl.  
   
 Jaehyun smacks Ten on the cheek lightly, arm still around him. "Stop it, hyung." He has his beanie on again, and his smile turns his eyes into moon crescents. "You know he's Sehunnie's." Sehun's.  
   
 "I'm - I'm not—" Luhan splutters, and the two of them laughs. All the workers here have a thing for embarrassing their elders, he thinks begrudgingly, remember Sehun mocking him already on their first meet.  
   
 "Ahh, but he buys Sehun-hyung manhwa books," Ten points out, and Luhan bites down on his lip from squirming. "Did you know he brings them all in and takes care of them like they're treasure or something? He's reading in his free time." Luhan laughs, imagining the idea of Sehun curled up in a bean bag with one of the volumes. There's an urge to jump by Kris' bookstore, and buy half of the manhwa section so that he can see it for himself.  
   
 Maybe he will. Maybe he'll ask Tao on his favorites.  
   
 Ten and Jaehyun don't ask about his job, or anything except for what he has for favorites at the shops. They don't ask because Sehun already blurts them out in the days where they all are working. Luhan slowly finds himself comfortable with Sehun's co-workers, all three witty and bubbly. It's nice, he thinks, it's a friendly workplace.   
   
 His phone rings with a text, vibrating in his pocket as he fishes it out.  
   
   
 

7:01 AM  
   
Satansoo: lets hang out today  
   
Satansoo: i checked with the others  
   
Satansoo: chanyeol and joonmyun are coming  
   
Luhan: when?  
   
Satansoo: a few hours before we go for our saturday hangout  
   
Luhan: ok~

   
   
  He shuts off his phone and stuffs it in his pocket. It's been nine years, and he still has that as his contact list, and he hasn't found out yet. God knows what he has for the rest of them, though. 

 Ten slips out of Jaehyun's grasp, smiling cheekily at a couple who walked in. Jaehyun taps on the counter, saying he'll be right back as he ducks into the kitchen, tightening the knitted beanie around his head. There's some quiet music playing in the background of the shop, but Luhan doesn't play much attention to it, stabbing his straw around the ice cubes, sucking up the sweet pearls. 

 Ten laughs, after handing the receipt to the couple. "Want another, Luhan-hyung?" Luhan grins sheepishly, but shakes his head, sucking up a few more stubborn pearls.

 "Maybe later." 

 Jaehyun bursts out of the kitchen carrying two drinks and hands them to the smiling couple who leaves after a goodbye. He turns to Luhan, who's looking around aimlessly around the shop. "We started selling baked goods, you know," he points to a sliding glass box, muffins and small cakes displayed under a small light. Hunger hurls itself towards Luhan's ribcages, twisting and thrashing around, screeching about Luhan's missed breakfast.

 "I'll take a muffin," he says, pulling out a few wons and change.

 "Sehun-hyung and Jeno baked those," Ten adds in a sing-song voice, and Jaehyun snickers.

 "Hey, shut it hyung," he says between snickers and places a muffin in the center of a ceramic plate. The plate looks hand-drawn, from the simple palette of colors that makes up retro designs, 

 "Whose shop is this?"

 "Jinki-hyung," Jaehyun organizes the menus in its pocket. "I'm surprised he hasn't opened up a fried chicken place, though." Luhan nods, sinking his teeth into the muffin. It's sweet; and the names Sehun and Jeno appears in his head as he eats, more Sehun though. But because he could put a face on him, and Jeno is still a mystery. 

 Luhan barely gets the fourth bite in when Jaehyun leans closer to Ten and whispers something, and Ten is suddenly around the counter, throwing his arm around him. Startled, Luhan jumps, nearly dropping his muffin. "  _What are you—?_ "

 "Sorry hyung, going to check something out," Ten whispers in Chinese, and presses their heads closer until their ears touched. "We're not friends yet, but for the sake of..."

 The door jingles with the bell as a friendly greeting, and Jaehyun flashes a sardonic smile towards the uncomfortable Luhan and a giggling Ten. "Hey! Sehun-hyung!" Jaehyun rounds the corner and tosses Sehun's apron towards him. "Just on time."

 "Yeah..." Luhan turns his head quickly towards the door, only to have Ten's arm get in the way. He catches a blurry glimpse of a bright blue hat, embed with a Superwoman logo. "Luhan-hyung?"

 Ten sniggers in Luhan's ear and Luhan flinches before he untangles himself from him. "Hey Sehun-hyung, Luhan-hyung got here early." Blinking, Sehun stares at them, and Luhan waves weakly towards him. There's a shadow cast over his face from the rim of his cap, and he presses his lips together thinly, in a near-attempt smile. 

 Sehun looks great in blue, Luhan thinks unconsciously, noticing how the blue fits the lighter version of his flannel and dark jeans. "Sehunnie," Luhan hops off the stool, leaving his muffin on the plate. "Hi." 

 "Hi hyung," Sehun grins, ruffling up Luhan's hair. At this point, he doesn't even care, because his hair is untouched today, no hairspray or hair gel to make his hair stiff and professional. "You're early."

 "I had nothing to do," Luhan shrugs, and Jaehyun and Ten had already slipped into the kitchen, smacking each other on the backs as they did so. "Hope I wasn't too early..."

 "I like it when you're at the shop," Sehun scratches the back of his ear. "If I had known you were coming this early, I would've gotten in earlier, too." Luhan shakes his head, saying it was okay.

 "Ten and Jaehyun kept me company."

 There's a flash of an unreadable expression, but then he laughs lightly. "So they did. You've...gotten awfully close to Ten?" Sehun says it awkwardly, like a question, already tying the apron around his slim waist.

 "It's not...I'm not..." Luhan sighs, and Sehun pulls his backpack around his shoulder. "I had nothing to do today. Not until afternoon."

 "What's afternoon?"

 "Hanging out with Kyungsoo, Chanyeol, and Joonmyun," Luhan says, sliding back into his stool as Sehun appears behind the counter. Luhan notices Sehun picking at his sleeves, at the frayed parts where threads are begging to be cut. "Do you...want to come?"

 Sehun brightens up, but them his shoulders slump after a few seconds. He sadly smiles and pouts afterwards. "I really want to, but I have dance. It's really happening, the recital." Luhan makes an ah and nods but hides his disappointment by patting him on the hand. He doesn't pull away right away.

 It seems to be a common act between them.

 "Does this mean I won't be seeing you guys at the Suzie Q bar tonight?" Luhan asks lightly, and Sehun shakes his head, looking genuinely upset. 

 "I really wish I can go."

 Luhan snorts, and pushes Sehun's hand away. "Don't sweat it, Sehunnie. I'm anticipating your recital. I am." And he is. He always looked forward to watching clumsy Taemin and Jongin turn into graceful lady killers under the limelight and against the shiny platform of the stage. Sehun beams and Luhan can ear the cars driving in the streets and younger people racing each other between the sidewalks outside. 

 Sehun moves away to disappear in the kitchen. "Going to make me some chocolate bubble tea," he says when the door shuts behind him, and Jaehyun popping out, slurping loudly on the same special he made for Luhan.

 "Hi hyung." Jaehyun says around the drink. In his hand there's another one, the same as his. He hands it to Luhan, who cups it with his fingers against the cold plastic. There're no designs, no cartoons or squiggles like Sehun's. 

 Luhan smiles at the younger one, and pulls out his wallet, but to his dismay, Jaehyun shakes his head and makes a click of his tongue. "You're a regular, on the house." 

 "But I—"

 "On the house. On the building, on the sky or whatever, free of charge hyungie." Jaehyun hops into one of the bean bags. "I love the mornings, no busy customers like in the afternoon, so relaxing, I swear."

 "Seems so," Luhan pulls out another straw. "Thanks, again."

 "No problem." 

 Sehun comes back, and smiles directly at Luhan, and his chest constricts again, but not of negativity. "Gross, is that Jaehyun's   _stupidass-name_ special?"

 "Hey!" Jaehyun kicks up a foot, pointing his leg towards Sehun comically. "Luhan-hyung likes it, better than yours!"

 Sehun smirks and turns to Luhan. "Really?" He's close; Luhan thinks, and he gulps in between sips of the bubble tea. Jaehyun squints before rising slowly, muttering things about hiding in the kitchen. "Do you like my secret special?"

 "It's taro." Luhan deadpans.

 Sehun swears, snapping his two fingers together. "I'll kill those two." Sehun doesn't move his face away, though, and Luhan can see the dark circles, even more, prominent than before. It seems like a stain on his pretty skin, and it adds to the image of sadness.   
   
 "You need more sleep," Luhan says seriously, and Sehun waves to a customer, shouting for Jaehyun to come out and help. "I see Jongin and Yixing with bags all the way to their cheeks—even Taemin isn't shitting me with crappy pepe memes nowadays." Sehun laughs softly, the pads of his fingers pressing against Luhan's fingers aimlessly. Luhan doesn't mind, because his fingers are soft without the callous that Jongdae has.

 "I'll try." Sehun looks up at Luhan, tired eyes piercing his. "You sleep too, hyung." Luhan scoffs, but he doesn't say anything snarky or sarcastic like he normally does to Tao. He can't, because Sehun's knotty bracelet is pressed against Luhan's wrist. However, Luhan does flip his fingers out of Sehun's, and toys with the bracelet. "It's a pretty bracelet, huh."

 "It's unique," Luhan murmurs, tracing the tiniest of knots.

 "My brother made it," Sehun says wryly, careful not to move his wrist. "He liked doing things like that. Knotting stuff. Knotting up everything." 

 Luhan's fingers falter, but not his tone. "Brother, huh?" There's a lot of things he doesn't know, and that realization hurts more than it should. Then again, Luhan shouldn't speak, and so he holds his tongue.

 "Yeah, brother." Sehun shifts his wrist a little bit, allowing Luhan to continue outlining every shape of the knot. "It's pretty, isn't it?"

 Luhan nods, smiling. "Very." When he's done tracing every single detail, he pulls away and so does Sehun. "Does he look like you, your brother?" There was always that longing; to have a sibling. That longing, to have an older sister like Jongin, a noona, or an older brother like Jongdae's, who sometimes ruffles up Luhan's hair and play football in their yard together.

 "Look like me?" Sehun leans back, deep in thought. "We look alike, sure. Except he looks a lot more mature, and clean cut."

 "I think you're clean cut." Luhan offers. "I like, I like the way you look." He trips over on his words, but Sehun doesn't say anything about it, or if he even notices. "You look a lot mature. More than I do, fuck, my baby face."

_ Baby face. _

_  Pretty boy. _

 The voices aren't as high as they usually are, and Luhan does his best to suppress them. "I like your face. I remember Tao calling you _Xiao Lu_ when he mentioned you, deer, right?" Luhan's eye twitches, more out of embarrassment than anything.

 "I'll kill him."

 "You do that."

 Their conversation stops, Ten whooping as he marches out of the kitchen, throwing a napkin into the trash bin. "Hyung and hyung," Ten chirps, and Sehun stares flatly at him. "We have," he flashes his wristwatch towards the two of them. "until 8:30 before all the cute girls and admiring fans flock in."

 "Admiring fans."

 "Ignore him—that's what we all do," Sehun suggests, and Ten jeers at him, sticking out a tongue in the process. "It'll be a lot crowded then."

 "I'll be out by then," Luhan shrugs, sipping on the rest of his drink before it melts. "Don't worry."  
 Sehun is organizing the little action figures on the high counter. "You can stay, really. It'll be louder, but..."

 Luhan flicks the younger one on the forehead when he's close enough. "Idiot, listen to your hyung. Don't go losing jobs just because of me." Luhan scoffs, tossing the now-empty cup in the trash can. Sehun winces, rubbing at his cheek. 

 "Nah," the music changes with a few buttons on the CD player, and Ten stops fiddling with the buttons when he's satisfied with the song. "Jinki-hyung is too nice to fire anyone. Seriously." 

➳➳➳

 

 

Sehun pouts make Luhan want to thrash around on the street. He really wants to throw himself on the dirty ground and let gravel embed themselves into his skin. Like, seriously. 

 "Do you have to go? We'll keep you in the break room," Sehun somehow turned into a cool twenty-one-year-old to a gushing puppy within seconds when Luhan stood up. Luhan takes a glance at the clock. 8:18 AM. 

 "Go to work, Sehunnie," Luhan shakes his head. "Seriously, tend your admiring fans." Sehun sticks his lower lip out even further. "Put your stupid lip back in." His lower lip rolls back in, and Luhan feels the need to cower and scream. They're standing close to each other. And it's normal. It's friendly. It's comfortable. Sehun stuffs his fists into his pocket, rocking back and forth, and he's beaming. He's fucking beaming.

 "I wish I could hang out with you."

 Luhan dismisses him with a shake of his hand, disturbing the air. "It's whatever. Be careful at dance practice. I'm really looking forward to seeing you dance—and Jongin and Taemin." Sehun brightens, and stops slouching, his back straight, and his plastic-like skin stretches into a wider smile.

   _What the fuck._

 "I'll work hard," Sehun offers, and Luhan nods, smiling a little bit. He's half way out the door, only a part of his face and shoulder still in the shop. "Bye, hyung!"

 "Bye."

 Luhan steps outside, the temperature difference catching up with him as it switches from toasty bubble tea shop to bustling Seoul in cool weather. It's not cold, just enough for Luhan to sport a V-neck, just enough so he doesn't have to dress like an Eskimo in the fall. 

 Seoul is loud. And it's nice, Luhan thinks. It's screeching tires and shouting suppresses thoughts, his thoughts. Staring at his phone, he wonders if he should call Kyungsoo or not. Hyunjae's flower shop is a bit farther away from the bubble tea shop, closer to Kris' bookstore if anything. And either way, he's not sure he can handle Jinri's twitching eye whenever he's picking at the flowers, asking what's this?

 He opts for the first one, pressing the contact '  _Satansoo'_. One ring, two rings. The fourth thing he picks up, and Luhan perks up. "Kyungie, let's hang out first. I'm bored, and it's still morning." There's a rustling of a bag and a crunching mouth in the background. 

 "Yeah, come over," there's a pause, and a muffled stop eating with your mouth open from Kyungsoo before he removes his hand away from the speaker. "Baekhyun just broke into my apartment."

 " _Did not!_ "  
   
 Luhan snickers and Kyungsoo growls. "Not funny. I can sue him."

 "But you won't," Luhan adds, and leans against one of the buildings. "Yeah, coming over. Want bubble tea?"

 There an energetic   _yep!_  from Baekhyun and a careless   _yeah_  from Kyungsoo. Ending the call, he rubs his hands together and turns back to the shop, a blank-faced Sehun greeting him. He blinks slowly; and then a wide smile spreads across his still face. "Back already?" he jokes, and Luhan looks around. There was already a few more people, maybe four since Luhan left. They weren't kidding.

 "I'll take three drinks to go," Luhan says sheepishly. "Kyungsoo, Baekhyun, and I." Sehun nods and disappears off into the kitchen.

 Luhan likes that he knows exactly what to get. He likes it, because it's a reminder that this is regular. 

 Luhan slants his elbows on the counter, watching Ten and Jaehyun bustle between cashier and kitchen, briefly waving to him before disappearing. And he watches, watching Sehun pull out a bundle of Sharpies out of his apron pocket, and squiggle and trace out the drawings.

 The cartoons are more detailed this time, the faint red of two strawberries scrawled on with a speech bubble in messy Hangul and basic English. Luhan knows it's his. 

 "Baekhyun comes here a lot too," Sehun says, flicking the brown sharpie up and down the plastic. "He seems to like it whenever I draw animals on the cup. He even begs Jaehyun to draw on his when it's him serving." Luhan nods, remembering a few weeks ago when Baekhyun instantly clung onto Sehun when he found out their similar interest. Inner Luhan slightly recoils, reminding him that his only similarity with Sehun is their liken to bubble tea.

 Sehun finishes with a big owl drawing on the cup, and stuffs all three into the carton tray, and Luhan hands him his card, not much cash except for a few wons on him. Luhan prefers cards, anyways. Luhan smiles and unfolds his hands to reach out for the carton, but Sehun's larger hands blankets over his. He looks up, and Sehun cocks his head.

 "To think, I thought you came back to me."

 Luhan scoffs, but his ears are pink. "I came for the tea, Sehunnie," he retorts, and Sehun laughs loudly, causing a few heads to turn but nothing big. "Bye, good luck, again!"

➳➳➳

   
 

 

Kyungsoo lives on the same street as Luhan, the same neighborhood with all the big apartment complexes, looming over the sky and mocking the sun. Luhan sees Baekhyun's car immediately, spotting the blooming red cluttered with bumper stickers in English. When Luhan asked Baekhyun if he knew what they meant, he just shrugged and said it looked cool, while Kris rubbed his face tiredly. 

 Careful not to drop the drinks, he swipes out his hand quickly from under the tray to press the UP button on level 4. He's glad that Kyungsoo doesn't live on like, the 12th floor. The 4th floor is easy. He's not scared of 4 floors.

 That doesn't stop his brain from activating the familiar nervousness that overwhelms his on elevators.

 There's no surprise when Luhan finds Kyungsoo's door unlocked. It's a habit among all of them, not locking their doors when their friends are around. Of course, the exceptions being Hyunjae and Yixing, who are too weary of possible scenarios, like burglary or, whatever. Slipping his entire body frame in, he peeks in, only to see a blurred, zipping creature in black running towards him.

 Luhan silently thanks God for letting him set the tray of drinks down before Baekhyun barrels into Luhan's chest.

 "Lulu!"

 Luhan gasps, feeling the wind knocked—wait, scratch that, torn— out of him. "Get," he pushes weak hands at Baekhyun's shoulders, "off," but Baekhyun snuggles his head in closer, his hair muzzling against Luhan's chest. "Of me, you stupid monkey!" he's not shouting, and he would if Baekhyun wasn't squeezing the fucking air out of him.  
   
 "Lulu-hyung, Lulu   _I love you!_ " Baekhyun smothers his face into Luhan's shirt, and he grimaces. "You bought drinks oh thank God I love you." He pulls away, scrunching up his nose. 'All Kyungsoo would offer was coffee. Black coffee." Baekhyun turns towards Kyungsoo, was who comfortably snuggled up on his couch. "Offering me a cup of sadness."

 Luhan sneers. "Should've offered you rat poisoning!" he says sardonically, staring in disappointment at his crinkled shirt, thanks to a clingy Baekhyun. 

 "Lulu-hyung~" Baekhyun bats his stupid lashes again. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." He snatches up the tray and hurries to the coffee table, pulling out his puppy-drawn cup and stabbing it mercilessly with the straw.

 "Thanks," Kyungsoo stands up with an empty coffee cup, still wearing his pajamas, his hair is fluffy. The Kyungsoo they are all friends with is small and innocent looking. The Office Kyungsoo is a bigger person; his doe-eyes imitating with his tailored suits and classy ties.

 "Where's Sehun?"

 Luhan sinks into one of the lounge chairs, shifting his legs around until they were nice between the pillows. "Sehun? Was I supposed to bring him?"

 Baekhyun shrugs, biting on his straw. "We'd just assume. You're like attached at the hip. And it's been only like, a month." Kyungsoo nods, careful not to spill when he punctures the plastic film of the cup.

 "We're not attached to the hip. I just get along with him, you know?" 

 Baekhyun sinks into the chair with Luhan, draping his legs over a scowling Luhan. "Yeah, yeah.   _Careful~_ Hyunjae might be jealous of Sehun for all that attention you give him."

 It's a harmless joke.

_  harMLESS _

_  Harmless. _

 

 "There's nothing to be jealous of," he says a bit too strongly, Baekhyun raising his eyebrows and putting up his hands. "Can't I just get along with a new friend?"

 Kyungsoo nods, and shrugs placing his drink on the side table. "I like Sehun. You seem brighter nowadays."

 Luhan frowns and raises a chilled finger to his face. "I do?"

 Baekhyun swats his hand away from his face. "Not your skin complexion, silly. Though it's nice." Luhan's eye twitches. "You just seem more at ease. Better."

 "Right."

➳➳➳

   
   
    
 They ended up going a bit earlier after Baekhyun groaned about being bored. The morning and early afternoon passes by in a blur, a bit too quickly for Luhan when they're all strolling around Hongdae. Joonmyun and him chatting about football, and Baekhyun, who ended up tagging on, clings onto Chanyeol. 

 Joonmyun had stopped by a charming shop, claiming it was pretty. Though, out of all of them, Luhan could see with a blinding obviousness that the charms were for a bracelet. And Hyunjae, has a bracelet full of charms. 

 Luhan doesn't say anything, again.

 Hongdae is loud in the mornings, too. Teenage bands gathering near the strip of music performers that were from Hongik University. Chanyeol had pulled them over, much to Kyungsoo's protests. 

 It's already 4 PM, and looking back, they slipped into every shop and Baekhyun kept buying street food from every vendor he sees. "I'm already worn out," Joonmyun says, stretching his arms as they settle down on a park bench, Baekhyun handing them each a stick of teriyaki on a stick. "Baekhyun and Chanyeol's energy are too much."

 "You're just old," Luhan says bluntly, tearing off the meat with his teeth. "About time, we pitch in and put you in a nursing home."

 Joonmyun kicks Luhan's shoe, and he hurryingly dodges it. "You're older than me." 

 "His soul is younger," Chanyeol interjects, mouth full of meat. "You're from the Joseon era." Kyungsoo blanches at him, and Chanyeol purposely chews in front of Kyungsoo, who pushes him away and into Baekhyun. Baekhyun's already done with his, smacking his lips together in satisfactory. His eyes widen, and he's patting Chanyeol on the back furiously.

 "Hey, hey!" he points the a store in the corner. "Snap backs, I need some, Chanyeol, let's get some!"

 Chanyeol shrugs him off, groaning. "What sort of editor at a top-notch magazine wears snap backs?" He sounds remorseful, picking at his little skewer. Luhan remembers Chanyeol wearing at least a different snap back everyday back in college.

 "Ttch," Baekhyun sneers. "You all have boring jobs. Fine, I'm going!"

 Luhan takes one glance at the store. "Wait, I'll go with you." Baekhyun blinks, as if he didn't hear him.

 "Huh?"

 Luhan stands up, stuffing his hands into his pocket, which bumps into his phone and wallet. "I said, I'll go with you. I want to look at them." Chanyeol laughs, and Baekhyun snorts.

 Joonmyun looks incredulous. "But you hate snap backs. The most you wear is a beanie. Rarely." Kyungsoo nods, chewing quietly on his   _teriyaki_.

 "It's not for me," Luhan mutters, then hooks his arm around Baekhyun. "Bye." He half-drags the younger one across the street, leaving the other three on the bench, munching on foods and staring.

 "Who's it for?" Baekhyun says from under Luhan's arm. "Me? Me? Me? Or...Sehunnie?" Baekhyun nudges Luhan in the rib. "Your   _neeeeeew_  best friend? Huh? Huh? How about Jongdae~?"

 Luhan gives Baekhyun a squeeze around his neck, and he shrieks. "Oh shut up. You have a whole closet full of hats. And Jongdae doesn't even wear hats! The man displays his overcooked ramyun hair as his pride!" Baekhyun whines, but they head into the shop, displaying hats of all sorts. Baekhyun immediately melts out of Luhan's grasp, in awe at the display on the center table. 

 "Hyung, look at this," he holds up a white snap back with the DOMO face embed in it. "I have one like this. In purple, the white looks so cool, too!" he slips off his own, basic black one and slips on the white one. Tightening the straps, he ducks down to take a glance at a mirror stand. 

 Luhan peers at the assortments of hats. He himself, only owns maybe four or so hats, and none are caps or snap backs. "Are you going to buy it?"

 Baekhyun shrugs, and takes it off. "I already have a purple one." Standing in front of Luhan, he slips it over Luhan's head.

 "What are you..."

 He adjusts it backwards, so the rim is at the nape of his neck. "Lulu-hyung, you should wear these often. Wow, you look younger. Hip hop, hip hop soul."

 "I'll hip hop kick your ass," Luhan takes it off, and fits it back on the head mannequin. A very big part of him wants to buy Sehun a hat, for congratulation purposes. Every year he always bought them gifts; Yixing seems to still pet his stuffed unicorn and Taemin playing with his Michael Jackson action figures. Even Jongin still watches the Dragon Ball Z anime videos bought for him.

 "I'll help you know, find a hat for Sehun." Baekhyun takes a step back to look around the store. "He wears a lot of these, I know you're buying it for him."

 "Oh, do shut up." Luhan says, beyond exasperated. "I'm not going to make anymore friends if you guys keep picking fun at them."

 "But you don't really make any friends," Baekhyun argues. "Unless by mutual friendship! You at least befriended Sehun on your own." Baekhyun's eyes are actually twinkling, and Luhan wants to stab his eyes with a pencil. 

 "Stop making me sound like a loner!"

 "But you kind of are," he protests, and zips his mouth when Luhan gives him a withering look. "Honestly, I'm just glad, especially with everything." Luhan sighs, and it comes out heavy and breathy. Everything.

_ Doctors _

_  wON'T HELP. _

_  your problem is that you're pretty. _

_  Shut up. _

 He turns to the younger one, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Help me find a hat for Sehun then. As a gift for...the recital." Baekhyun looks unnecessarily triumphant. "Wipe that look off or I'll burn it off." Baekhyun looks touched, the fucker. He fixes his hat, and pulls Luhan to the other display tables, and runs his fingers across the counter with a steady drumming. 

 "I talk to Sehunnie a lot," he drawls. There's a burn in his chest, and a fleeting sense of something he's not familiar with. "And he seems like the simple guy, so," Baekhyun pokes the rim of a hat that has floppy ears and pink, stick-out eyes that seems to creep the both of them out. "Out of the question."

 Luhan stares at the hat in disbelief. Who would wear that even? He bet Taemin wouldn't even touch it, and opt for burning it instead. Luhan points at a sport teams hat. "What about this?"

 Baekhyun chuckles. "That's Yonsei, like, your old university?"

 "Oh."

 "And Sehun goes to Hongik."

 "Oh...yeah." 

 Baekhyun pats Luhan's back, comforting his stupidity. "What does Sehun like? Interests?"

 Luhan's shoulders slumps, and his head hangs by the weight of his body. "I...I don't even know. I see him everyday even if it's only for a few minutes. It's like I know him, but not know him, know him." He looks up at Baekhyun with a plea in his eyes. 

 Baekhyun nods, understanding completely. "Yeah I get it. Normal."

 "Normal?"

 He lifts up a hat and checks the price tag, and turns his head slightly towards Luhan. "To this day, I know you. But sometimes, it's like I really don't know you."

➳➳➳

 

 

Suzie Q was always a personal favorite to Baekhyun, who used his brother's ID in high school because they looked alike. Also, it's such a dimly lit place that no one would even be able to tell. Luhan recalls fuzzy memories of Baekhyun knocking on his door late at night on days when his aunt went out for errands. He'd pull him and Jongdae to Suzie Q, despite their anxiousness.

 Jongdae isn't here though, saying he didn't want to miss out on the reservations made for tonight, for some business people. He was ecstatic over the phone, that his restaurant was good enough for business to be dealt there. 

 The bag with the receipt and snap backs nestled between his legs, and he nods his head to the music, fingers drumming on the vinyl-designed tables. Joonmyun had commented earlier on what he bought, but Baekhyun had waved him away, saying it was stuff for youngsters. "It's weird without the others here." Joonmyun says, downing a glass of gin and tonic. "Never really missed more than two people. I'll kick their asses for skipping out on traditions." Joonmyun didn't mean it, he's too nice to kick buttocks. Luhan looks around, and it's true. While Taemin tended to skip out on their hangouts for college parties, he was invited.

 Sehun isn't here, Tao came from the dorm alone. "Aish, dancers are so stressful," Tao moans, and leans his head on Kris. He shrugs him off onto Joonmyun, who chuckles. "Sehun's been a bit more stressed, my eye bags are growing!" Tao whines, pointing eagerly at his eye bags.

 Kyungsoo nods, his face lit up by his phone light. "Jongin's been cranky 'cause of Yixing." He finishes up a text really quick. "To his disappointment, Yixing has friends who works at liquor stores." 

 Luhan's not drinking. He recoils at the thought of another hangover and crashing in Jongdae's break room. It happens too many times, but he's not feeling the need to hang his head over the toilet and scream in Chinese at the toilet paper roll. Hyunjae had looked pleased when he came back with soda instead, and she leaned her head into his chest, checking her phone from texts from Jinri.

 Hyunjae doesn't drink, and they both have a tall glass of coke in front of them, his is half empty and hers barely touched. She's pretty, Luhan thinks, even under the dim lighting and her untouched face. She didn't bother today; she rarely did.

 Joonmyun noticed, too.

_ he'll sTEAL HER. _

_  i know. _

 Baekhyun jumps into his seat, careful not to have his drink slosh around. "When's their big show?" He's leaning on his arms, which serves as a resting place between him and the table. Normally, he'd use someone as a pillow. But there's no Chanyeol with them, either, who rushed off before they headed to the bar. Baekhyun had been clinging onto the giant, shouting,   _noona I love you! Noona! Noona!_  over his shoulder when his sister called. 

 "My sister wants me to have dinner with her boyfriend, or something." Chanyeol had groaned into his hands, sorrow because he couldn't get drunk out of his mind at the bar, and you can't exactly get drunk of wine at dinner. He held his liquor well, too. "I swear...she's already this close to engaging him. He hangs his head, and Joonmyun pats his head solemnly. 

 Baekhyun had brought up going to Kyungri-dan, saying that "All the trendy girls at there." Kyungsoo had knocked upside the head for being insensitive. Chanyeol hadn't date anyone since his 3rd year in college, and Kyungsoo and Luhan had been there to witness his fall and tears. And hoard of liquor. And ice cream.

 "It's in almost two weeks, a bit less." Luhan does the math quickly in his head. "December 7th." Hyunjae yawns, her eyes sleepy. Her head is heavy on him, but he doesn't say anything.

 "Seems like a bigger production," Kris murmurs, picking at greasy fries. This place wasn't known for their food, anyways. "Yixing is going crazy. He almost yelled at me yesterday. Yell." 

 "Hah." 

 Conversations are split into two, Tao and Kris arguing about the best angles and lighting for selcas, and Joonmyun, Baekhyun, and Kyungsoo are chatting about Minseok. Hyunjae and him aren't saying much, just listening and laughing at the right times. Nodding at the right times. "That bastard hyung, rarely makes a phone call or text to his high school buddies," Baekhyun says loudly, a joking hue to it. "Ought to give him some of the Baekhyun wrath!" The others laugh, and Luhan tries to. Except, it feels ashy, and he finishes his coke in one go, hoping the dryness will go away. It doesn't.

_  won't go away _

_  stuck forever pretty boy _

 It's sticky, he thinks. The feeling. Minseok. His voices.

 He can't wash it off, no matter how hard he scrubs until his skin is torn and red to the flesh. It's too sticky, and it's there.

   
 The little hand seems to have scurried up the hours, resting it's fat ass on the number eleven. Luhan's eyelids, being slowly switched up by a quiet force seems to quicken its threading. Baekhyun didn't hesitate to order drinks immediately when they got here a few hours ago, and it's showing well in him as he stares in shock at the vinyl table. Like, he hasn't been here several fucking times.

 Suzie Q remains lively, and all except for Joonmyun seems to be on the edge of drowsiness. "What did you all do that got you all worn out today?" he asks jokingly, patting a yawning Kris on the shoulder. Luhan knows the question isn't for him.

 They know he can't sleep, not really.

_ but with sehun  
   
 but with him _

_  HIM. _

 "Bunch of schoolgirls barged into the bookstore by the mass," he says, his voice thick of amusement. "Kept asking me where the romance books were. I should stop selling them, maybe it'll be more quiet."

 "But you'll lose your business," Tao says smugly, and Kris shoots him a withering look. Luhan smiles softly, and looks away. 

 Romance books are all the rave, he notice. The idea of hand holding and damp kisses under rainy skies. The thought of holding someone; by the waist, hip, hand. By their jaw, and leaning in. The ideal romance that bloomed under the inked pages that little people experience; it's certainly an appeal. But to him, they're a reminder of a burn scar that he never tried to heal.

 But it's nice, to pretend.

 "I dealt with Baekhyun too early in the morning," Kyungsoo mutters, jabbing a half-asleep Baekhyun on the neck. He didn't even notice. "I don't understand how Chanyeol handles him. He drains all my energy." Baekhyun responds with a loud burp, specifically towards Kyungsoo's general area. 

 "Hyunjae," he turns to Hyunjae after Kyungsoo slaps him on the thigh violently. "I need flowers for my place, suggest some petals for me."

 Hyunjae laughs, dosed in sleep that Luhan notices. "Will you water them?" She looks up at Luhan, and pokes him on the chest. "This one never does."

 "I'm capable of caring for plants," Baekhyun says proudly. He turns to Joonmyun, who was checking out something on Kris' phone. "Remember, hyung? Fourth year of high school, science was fun."

 "What do you mean fun?" Joonmyun cringes. "I nearly failed that class because of you." Everyone chuckles, except for Hyunjae who was half-asleep. He knew, on their 3rd date on a walk around Sinsa-dong late at night, that she never did well with late hours. 

 His mind unconsciously steps into the blurred spot of Sehun, who stayed up in the witch hours of the night, cramming in studies and dance courses while wearing a simple smile in the morning. Sehun liked the late hours.

 "I should take Hyunjae home," Luhan's voice is less velvety, and more strained. "I should go home, too." Kris gives a heavy wave, weighed down by the few shots and Tao smothering his face into his dress shirt, wrinkling the fabric to the point of desperate ironing. 

 Kyungsoo rides home with Luhan and Hyunjae, and the rest trails towards Kris, loud shouts of breakfast at Jongdae's, and clicks of the car keys. Kyungsoo hops into the back, nestling in comfortably with his seat belt on, hands resting on his kneecaps with nothing but the light of the streets on his face. Hyunjae slips in at the passenger seat, with Luhan holding the door.

 "Such chivalry," Kyungsoo says.

 "Oh shut up. Show some to Jongin if you want some—" his eyes flickers to Hyunjae. "Reaction." Kyungsoo gapes at him, doe-eyes twitching in a dull irritation, and Luhan pushes the car keys in, waiting for the engine to start. The ride to Hyunjae was mostly quiet, except for her asking Kyungsoo about his new apartment.

 "Thank you," Hyunjae unbuckles her seat belt, watching Luhan zip around to the other side, unlocking the door for her. "Thank you." Luhan nods, and she wraps her arms around his chest, giving a quick squeeze and a kiss on the cheek, and darting off to her apartment. It's easy to see the window with the mass of hanging flower pots on the fifth floor. 

 When he turns back, Kyungsoo has already climbed his way to the passenger seat, buckling himself up. "If you got dirt on the car interior," Luhan starts, but gives up instantly when Kyungsoo presses a few button to play the CD already in the drive. 

 "We have a duo-interview on Monday," he says, cocking his head to the rhythm. "Chanyeol can stay in the office and do dumb things. Or edit."

 "Okay."

➳➳➳

The weeks pass by in smudge paints. Incoherent days seems to be the norm. To wake up and leave with a heavy bag with edits due, and a tie that holds him in place by the neck. It's the norm since he's been an intern at his workplace since he was 21. The small coffee shop reopened with the owner looking more refreshed after a much-needed vacation with her grandson.

 He hasn't gotten coffee there though, not for himself, at least. Still stepping foot into the bubble tea shop that gains more popularity each day. Each day, Luhan remains incongruous against the shop with younger people, in impeccable suits and a large briefcase. 

 Sehun gets even handsomer, dance that shaped his hands and arms that are duly noted when he rolls up his sleeves. Luhan would look away, focusing on the cute stickers on the wooden side of the counter as Sehun makes the drinks. Concern is a low burning that swells like an infection in him, pushing him to get the strongest but sweetest coffee at his beloved coffee shop. 

 "Luhan, my dear, you're back," the sweet old lady smiles, eyes slipping into crescents and worn out wrinkles follow suit. "You pass by everyday but you head into that new cute tea shop, is it good?" Luhan nods, and extends his head to stop the woman from making his usual.

 "Not for me today, ahjumma," he slips in that smile that she knows reminds her of her son. "For a friend, he likes it very sweet—but you can make it strong, right? Enough to wake someone?" She nods, mixing in spoons of sugar and cream. She cups it with a cardboard holder, so it wouldn't burn their hands and she shuts the lid. Paying her, he thanks her and hurries off to the bubble tea shop down the street, hoping the coffee won't lose its heat.

 Sehun already has his drinks ready, adding the final touches of cute drawings to the cup. "Chocolate-hyung—oh, you already have a drink? Coffee?" He grins, his sharp cheekbones more noticeable when he does. Luhan shakes his head, and presses the hot coffee into the younger one's hands.

 "Drink." Luhan says sternly. "It's sweet like you like it, so drink it." Sehun looks up at him, a bemused expression like a clear plastic wrap over his face. Sehun had stopped wearing concealer under his eyes, knowing it didn't fool anyone. He nods slowly, tilting the cup, opening the plastic flap. Luhan stares at the unsettling color under Sehun's eyes, thin skin that seemed transparent and fragile. He can't help but feel irritated, his jaws unhinging in the need to say something.

 "Is there something on my face?" Sehun says, after sipping the coffee. "Thank you, by the way. It's delicious."

 "Sleep deprivation is on your face," he snaps, and Sehun's startle, eyes widening a fraction. "Get some rest tonight, your recital...it's tomorrow and I don't want," his words are spilling. Along with his voices. "I don't want you _half-dead_ on the damn stage!" Jaehyun is there, working the register, or napping on it. Quickly adapting to the tension, he excuses himself and ducks into the kitchen with Ten.

 "I know that."

 "Then get some sleep!" Luhan doesn't want to yell. Not at Sehun, not someone who looks so sweet; not someone who is so sweet. "Take a day off work, you don't have classes today." The irritation is dull now, concern now irks his skin. Jongdae had made Jongin take the day off, him and Taemin resting together at the dorms. But Sehun—pretending that he doesn't have a recital tomorrow, working and lacking sleep.

 It pisses him off.

 Sehun remains quiet, staring at the paper cup filled with sweet and bitter brown liquid. "Look at you, too, hyung. Your dark circles are worse than mine." There's no bitterness like the coffee to his voice. Just a statement. an observation.

 Luhan's shoulders slump, and he's tired. "That's right. We're both sleep-deprived with luggage under our eyes," he says dryly, watching Sehun recoil and casting his eyes further away, trying to hide them with the pads of his fingers. His voice softens to a velvety tone, the dent between his brows gone. "Take the day off."

 "I don't..."

 "I'll call Jinki-hyung," Ten hollers, his nose peeping out of the kitchen door. Luhan's mouth twitches, seeing the two younger workers spying on them. "He knows about your recital anyways, get some sleep." His nose disappears, and the kitchen door shuts again, with Jaehyun's not-so-subtle giggles and guffaws. 

 "Rest at my place," Luhan says instantly, right when the door is shut and there's only him and Sehun. "I'll order some food and you can sprawl your sleep-needed ass across the duvet, and well, sleep."

 Sehun, taken back, shakes his head. "No, I'll rest at my dorm, Tao has classes today so I'll have it all to myself." 

 "No, you're going to eat ramyun and drink cancer." 

 "But I—"

 "—will rest soundly at his caring hyung's home because he cannot possibly turn down that offer." Luhan interrupts him, and there's a small crack of a near smile on Sehun. "We can stop by the dorm and get your clothes so you don't have to worry about mine not fitting you." Luhan grins, which puts Sehun at ease.

 "You're really great."

 "I know." Luhan walks towards Sehun's backpack, a dull pack that's brighten up by pins with cute cartoons and slang. Swinging it over his shoulder, he nods towards him. "Go." Sehun nods, and disappears off into the break room, loosening the knot of his apron.

 When Sehun is gone, Luhan quickly pulls out his phone, scrolling down to the contact that says ' _두목, boss'._  Pressing the green telephone icon, he waits. Changmin tends to wait at least two rings every time, no matter the urgency. "Luhan?" Changmin picks up immediately after the second ring, and Luhan can imagine him spinning around in his chair. Instinctively switching to Korean, even straightening his back.

 "Hello, Mr. Changmin," Luhan takes a glance at the break room door. "Can I take a late-notice day off? I haven't taken off many this year, it's important." Plea creeps up in his voice, and he kicks it down, trying not to sound too hopeful.

 "What's it for?" There's the sound of his chair rolling around, spinning. 

 "I need to take care of someone." Luhan hopes the door doesn't open, but Sehun isn't out yet.

 There's the clicking of the mouse, and his chair stops moving. "By the looks of it, you've only taken four days off this year. I've excluded your doctor appointments, because those do not count by your case." His voice is careful, and Luhan feels a slight pang of nausea hit him. "However in the future, please request a day off in advance."

 "Is that...a yes, sir?"

 "Yes, I will notify Chanyeol, but finish up the email at home." The phone hangs, and Luhan feels relieved, and relief is stronger than his nausea. He slips his phone away into his breast pocket, clutching the handle of his briefcase when Sehun's back, wrapped up in a slightly heavier coat and hat pulled back.

 Luhan's mind tiptoes back to his drawer, where the snap back is tucked under the plastic bag, waiting for tomorrow. He hopes Sehun would like it; and if not, he'll lock himself away in his room and become a monk, or something.

 "Hyung, thank you...and," Sehun furrows his brows together, tapping his watch. "You have work today, right?" Sehun's eyes points towards his briefcase, which is swinging a little bit by his hand.

 "Nope," he pops the P, and spinning around on his heel, starts towards the car. "Got it covered."

 Sehun frown. He follows, but stops, his sneakers squeaking when he does so. "Wait, don't you want bubble tea?" Luhan turns around, shaking his head with a soft smile.

 "Not today, let's go, Sehunnie. And ah," Luhan points to the counter. "Don't forget your coffee."

➳➳➳

 Sehun pulls Luhan up by the hand, fingers interlaced in the way Luhan likes; in the way he never seems to able to do with Hyunjae. "Let me just get a change of clothes," Sehun says, unlocking the door to his dorm. Luhan in Sehun's chair by his desk, noticing a few changes from the time he was here a few weeks earlier, when they went for Namsan, and spent the night together.

 The changes are familiar to Luhan, photos pinned up on the wall neatly. Photos of him and Tao, of Yixing, Jongin and Taemin. Of Jaehyun and Ten, and of photos of Sehun and him. Sweet warmth and nectar-like joy bubbles up in Luhan, coming out in soft breaths as he twists the chair to look at it more.

 The picture with Sehun's face squished into Luhan's, caught-off just as he remembered. "Sehun-ah, this is cute." He turns around from his drawer, and is by Luhan's side instantly.

 "I got photos printed out. I liked this one the best." Sehun says softly, only losing the rhythm once. Luhan chuckles, and pats Sehun's arm that rubs against his shoulder.

 

 "I like it, it looks," Luhan pauses, seeing the genuine happiness in the photographed-self. “Nice. I like it."

 Sehun drops a tee-shirt and sweats on the table, opening the small drawer that's under Luhan. His elbow brushes against Luhan's navel, and he holds in a gasp, even if it was filtered by his jacket. "I have a few extra copies, do you want them?" He asks shyly, and Luhan grins, and nods, thinking back to his wall of photos.

 Tucked neatly in a white envelope, Sehun spills out the contents. They're the photos Luhan recognize as Sehun taking through his phone, of the busy streets and waking Myeongdong skies. He sees their face in glossy papers. "Here, these are the extra copies I took," Sehun says, sorting them out and taking the ones of them out. "I hope you like them." He presses the copies into Luhan's open hands, careful not to bent the corners.

 "Thank you."

 Luhan looks through them all, and he looks happy.

  _you're happy_

_  beside him. _

 

➳➳➳

 

"Let me change out of this godforsaken suit, and I'm taking care of you today. You need the best possible rest." Luhan hangs up his jacket and takes Sehun's too. "Sit down, I'll be right back."

 Sehun does, placing his bag against the edge of the couch. "I hope I'm not taking you away from work." He says guiltily, looking up at Luhan with those eyes of his. Damn his eyes, he thinks murderously, and looks away before he can sink into the ground with those wavering eyes. 

 "Not at all," he pulls off his tie, and loosens a button. "Now rest." He tosses the remote to Sehun, before hurrying off to the hallway that leads to his room. 

 December now, he has reasons to wear bigger sweaters and warm socks. Though, his immune system served a big reason already. Better dressed for comfort, he's back in his living room, where Sehun hasn't turned on the TV yet, the remote laying there beside him untouched. 

 "Not interested in TV?" Luhan asks, sitting beside him and pulling a blanket out from under one of the decorative pillows. He wraps it around himself, and Sehun. "Are you hungry?" Sehun shakes his head, adjusting the blanket around his lap for better suit. "I can pick up food at Jongdae's restaurant."

 "I ate earlier at the shop," he says. "Thanks though, hyung." He's so genuine that it hurts.

 Luhan nods dubiously, but rests his head against the uncomfortable pillows. No wonder they're for decor, the fabric too hard for him to sink his head in. "Do you want to sleep already?" he looks up at Sehun, who doesn't remove his gaze. They hold a comfortable eye contact, and Sehun smiles, and shakes his head. He motions towards the now empty coffee cup on the table. 

 It doesn't take a genius to take notice of his carefully hands that sits in his lap. Or how he's rigid against the blanket and seems like a stranger in Luhan's home.

 Luhan jerks up, startling Sehun and blinks. "Why are you so careful around me now? You were so touchy touchy earlier," he says, poking Sehun on the arm and he winces; even though it didn't hurt. 

 "I don't want to overstay my welcome at your place, and I," he stops, letting his shoulders relax like the way Luhan's used to seeing. "I don't want to cross any lines, if there are lines."

  _cross any lines_

_  you cross every boundary luhan _

_  You're not suppose to be here right now. _

 "You're not. I don't have any lines, not really." He stops, trying to think if there's anything that irked him. "I tend to be close with people, it makes me feel safe. Do you have any lines that I should be aware of?" There's a small pang of anxiousness. His friends were all used to his closeness; Jongdae never flinching when Luhan gives him a hug or Joonmyun giving into his hair ruffles. Hyunjae sinking into his back hug and Jongin letting Luhan lean on him.

 It really does make Luhan feel safe.

 "No, I don't."

 Luhan grins, and scoots a bit closer to Sehun, and he does the same. "Now the blanket won't stretch." Sehun laughs, and lets the blanket around the two of them like a soft nest. Now, his anxiousness clearing up, he pulls out the remote from under him and turns on the TV, pressing pass channels.

 Sehun makes an  _oh!_  and points eagerly towards the channel Luhan had just skipped. Pressing back two channels quickly, it was Running Man. "You like this variety show?"

 Looking abashed, he nods, rolling his neck slowly. "Tao always hogs the TV at our dorm. He's always setting it to the Disney channel." Luhan lets out a sharp laugh, unfiltered and raw. He thinks back to first meeting Tao when he was still in his last year of college. Tao had looked menacing but the nature of his noticeably bright red mickey mouse shirt softened him. It was even better when he found out Tao had the same shirt in seven other colors. 

 Twenty minutes into the show, Luhan throws his side of the blanket over Sehun. "I'm getting snacks, be right back." He snatches up Sehun's empty coffee cup and his phone, slightly jogging towards the kitchen. 

 Kyungsoo hadn't bother taking back his snacks from a few weeks ago, leaving the others in Luhan's kitchen for his own spiritual fat ass to munch on. Or when Yixing wanted a cheat day from his healthy lifestyle. And the certainly often times where Chanyeol would trail him after work to attack his cabinet of sweets because he requires them for "fuel". 

 Quickly snatching two bags of chips, unsure of what Sehun would like, he checks his phone for notifications. A few were spam mails, two from Kyungsoo and Baekhyun from their kakaotalk Group, and Hyunjae.

8:21 AM

Chanyeollie: i took your chair and kyungsoo took mine

Satansoo: You taking care of someone?

8:42 AM  
Luhan: Yeah, taking care of a sleep-deprived kid~

Exiting out, he clicks on Hyunjae's name, two new messages displayed.

8:39 AM

Hyunjae: Are you talking care of someone? You're so sweet 

Hyunjae: I remember when you brought me flowers when I was ill, even though I am a florist (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

Luhan: I'm taking care of Sehunnie, he needs it for the recital

Quickly messaging her about the bouquets for tomorrow night, he leaves his phone on the counter and carries the junk food back to Sehun, who was staring contently at the TV when Luhan walked in. He tosses the bags on the coffee table, mindful not to spill any in the open bags. "Today's a day for relaxation, I'll pick up lunch at Jongdae's at 1, sounds good?" Luhan asks, and Sehun nods for confirmation, plucking a salted potato chip in his hand.

 "I'm grateful for someone like you," Sehun says when Luhan nestles himself between the pillows and him. "You've done so much for me..."

 "I had Jongdae when I came here," Luhan interjects, ripping opening the BBQ chips. "It's tough in a new place, I'm glad to be that person for you." He leans on the younger one's shoulder, munching on sweet and salty chips. "Tell me a bit about your old home." He's curious, really, of the sudden change to Seoul. Maybe it wasn't so sudden.

 They're not really watching the TV right now, their attention on munching and their voices finding each other. "I went to a dance school, and I really just lived in the suburban part of Daegu," Sehun says between bags of chips crinkling. "Nothing worth mentioning." Luhan nods slowly against the fabric of Sehun's shirt. 

 Luhan doesn't ask anymore.

 The hour breaks into 10 AM, with grease stained fingers and sleep eyes as friends. Sehun had leaned his head on Luhan's somewhere in between, his eyes droopy and heavy. Nudging him with a nod, Sehun stirs, his eye still on the TV, barely. "You're sleepy. Let's get you to bed." Sehun lifts his heavy head up, looking apologetic. "Stop that. Come on, you can sleep in my room until lunch." He rips two tissues from the dispenser and hands one to him.

 "Hyung, could I ask you something?" Sehun hastily wipes his hands before crumpling up the tissue. 

 "Shoot." Luhan takes this time to fold up the blanket, and setting it back in it's original place under the pillows.

 Amused, Sehun stands up, towering over Luhan by a head. There's not a day at the office where Luhan doesn't curse the world for making the younger ones taller than their hyungs. 

 "Tao told me that you hate people on your bed. That you kicked him off once, literally. With your foot to his ass." Sehun says, and Luhan snorts, remembering that faint memory. Sehun doesn't look straight at Luhan, but instead rolls up the chip bags so it crinkles and is neat. "But you let me that night...if it bothers you then I—"

 "I do, I did...I did kick him off. But you, it didn't irritate me. I don't know why but, it," Luhan sighs, and pats down his sweater, smoothing down to his thighs. He picks up the two bags and carries them close to his face. It does a shitty job of covering the flushed cheeks that came with spluttering words. "I let Hyunjae and you on my bed, I don't know. Don't worry about it, really."

 Sehun nods slowly, rubbing his arm with his hand. Luhan shuffles to the dining room in his slippers to set down the bags of chips, not bothering to put it back in the cabinet. "My bed sheets are clean, too. So you don't have to worry." He calls out, but Sehun's already behind him, phone in hand and glowing.

 Fucking glowing. 

 "You need sleep, too hyung." Sehun says bluntly, pointing towards his own dark circles and motioning towards Luhan, the glow still present but worry staining it. "You said you had trouble with sleep a bit ago..."

 Luhan feels stuffy. There's his medical papers in a folder on his desk, papers that points out his flaws. Flaws. Flaws from a pretty boy. "Insomnia. I have it."

 "Oh."  
   
 "It's not too big," Luhan says quickly, not wanting worry to etch itself into Sehun's face. "Really."

 "You need to sleep," Sehun grasps his milky hands in Luhan's cuffed ones, gentle fingers tracing back and forth on his knuckles. "Try, at least."

 Luhan looks down at their hands. Sehun's hands are pretty; skin clear and no flaws noticeable on the back of his hands. "I will, you need to sleep. You have a big recital tomorrow—your first one here, too." Sehun stares at Luhan, and there's a change in his eyes. He tugs at his hands, tugging Luhan towards his room down the hall.

 "Correct me if I'm wrong or if I sound narcissistic," Sehun murmurs into the shell of Luhan's ear, hot breath tickling the older one's skin. "You slept soundly that Sunday. And we both need all the sleep we can get." He lets him tug him by the hand to the room, unlocking the door.

 The photos gifted to Luhan by Sehun, are few against the dark wooden desk, laid neatly. Luhan will have to remember to dig through his closet for empty photo frames, and he will. He'll find a place on his wall for Sehun, along with the faces of his other friends.

 There are bare, empty spots on the wall that needs some love.

 The leather folder on Luhan's desk, the thin folder that contains his medical history and bills, is invisible to the both of them. And it's nice, to not have his life's biggest burden stare back at him.

 Luhan slips under the duvet first, heavy head hitting the soft material of the pillow and inducing his sleep-level. He likes it; he likes the dip of the mattress, Sehun crawling in beside him to sleep. It's a common gesture now, it's common. There's the familiar flip of blankets, the two of them getting comfortable in the bed.

 "Won't you be uncomfortable in your clothes?" Luhan whispers, though there's no need to.

 "I'm not uncomfortable," he replies, his freckles contrasting lightly with his dark circles. There's an urge in Luhan, to press his finger to each freckle gently, lightly because he'll be afraid that they'll disappear under his touch. "Thank you, hyung. For being good to me."

 "Thank you for letting me be good to you," Luhan replies jokingly, but the humor is lost under the filtered sleepy voices, and somewhere in between the haze of sleep and falling into sleep, he ends up falling closer into Sehun's chest, or the other way around. A pressed pair of lips on Luhan's brow bone, and quiet mumbles of  _sleep well_  and  _thank you, hyung_ passes through the air like a goodnight kiss.

➳➳➳

 Sehun wakes up before him.

 Luhan stirs a few minutes after, palms flat against a hard chest that's pressed against him, someone's forehead resting against his. An unfamiliar warmth but yet the smell of the cologne Luhan can identify as Sehun's. Fluttering lashes and waking eyes, he finds himself in the same position as that Monday morning. Only that now, his legs are entangled in Sehun's this time, and arms wrapped around his torso. 

 "I don't know why we keep using each other as a human pillow," Luhan murmurs, nuzzling his head deeper into the masses of decorative mini pillows that buries them. He started to pull his arms away apologetically, but Sehun clamps on them, keeping them there. Luhan doesn't protest. "How long did we sleep for?"

 "It's almost 12:30," Sehun replies, his breath warm like steam on Luhan's bare forehead. "I had a good sleep."

 "Me too." Luhan whispers. "Strangely enough." He entangles himself away from Sehun slowly, just their legs. Sehun still wouldn't let Luhan's arms go, so he keeps them there. He peers over Sehun's shoulder; 12:26. He'll call Jongdae in a bit to pick up lunch. With his legs and nowhere to put them, he curls them up close to his chest. "I don't know...I just sleep better with you around. Maybe because you're boring," he jabs, the air of humor back in the room.

 Sehun smiles, pushing his own hair out of his face, only to have some of it curl back. "I'm glad." Luhan never thought he could hear a bright smile in a voice. Now he did, and it's a beautiful sound.

 They stay like this for a bit, Luhan remembering the cool touch of Sehun's lips against his brow bone, and his arms against his. The way their wrists touch, like touching a burning iron rod and pulling away too quickly. Luhan squeezes his eyes shut—waiting for his voices to kill him and bring them down.

 But they don't.

 Because they're just friends.

 Just friends.

 His eyes are more alert, Luhan notice. Still soft and endearing that glances down at Luhan. He shuts his eyes, wanting to seal Sehun's gaze away forever, for himself and only him. 

  _How selfish._

 Unconsciously, Luhan curls in closer to Sehun, like a cat. His palms flat against Luhan's back, going up and down in a steady beat, tracing his spine gently. Unconscious, yes, that is what they are. Unaware of their breathing mixing into one, oblivious to how Luhan's knees dig into Sehun's thighs, unconscious of his nose brushing against Luhan's forehead.

 It was then that Luhan was not a 25-year-old man, but like a boy pressed into someone's arms. That he hasn't aged eight extra years counting those too-full bottles with his doctor's messy writing. That he was warm, and that breathing comes easy.

 Unconsciousness can only last so much before Luhan's aware of their position, their close proximity, and very much aware of how Sehun's lips are shaped like bows. Like pretty, fucking pink bows. 

  _Wrong._

_  This is wrong. _

_  GET OUT OF MY HEAD. _

 A spluttering mess, Luhan presses his palms against Sehun's chest hastily, pushing away so there's a reasonable space between them. "S-sorry, I-I should go get lunch for us. Food. Fuel." Luhan scrambles out of bed, pulling the sheets and blankets away from his legs and running a hand through his messy hair. "Anything in mind?" Sehun heaves himself up as well, a soft smile that spoke soft words. 

 The pulsing nervousness that thumps against his skin is unsettling; and Luhan doesn't know why. It's not wrong, it's perfectly normal, normal, normal. Just friends.

 "Anything is fine," he says, twiddling with the ends of his sleeves that rolled down from his elbows. He looks pretty, Luhan thinks, nested in the unnecessary masses of pillows and colorless blankets. "I'll go with you."

 "You should rest—"

 "—we fully rested," Sehun hopped out of the bed, flipping over the sheets so it looked semi-made. "Fresh air is good, anyways." His hair is tousled, pulling together his entire look, whereas Luhan probably looks like the remains of Chihuahua crap. 

 "Then," Luhan pulls down his sweater sleeves aimlessly, staring at the wall behind Sehun. "Should we just eat there?" He looks down at himself, not wanting to change just for the sake of eating at the restaurant he has been eating at for years, nearly a decade. 

 "I'd like that."

➳➳➳

Exodus wasn't as crowded as it would've been if they had came at 11 or 12. Jongdae, his hair pulled back up in an apple—why the fuck—and wiping down the counters after saying goodbye to a young woman and her toddler. "Oh! Hyung? And Sehun, hi!" Jongdae twists his face in confusion before beaming, waving his free hand that wasn't wiping down the surface. 

"Hey," Luhan slides into one of the seats at the far back, peeling off his hat and plopping it on the table. "Yeah, no work today." Sehun's face contorts in what could be touched upon as guilt, before Luhan shakes his head, it's okay.  
 "Uh huh," Jongdae says something about readying the other tables to his workers before rushing over to the sink. "Give me a sec, hyung." Sehun bites down a laugh, staring at the bobbing apple hairstyle. Luhan chuckles, but not at Jongdae and his blind eye for hair—but at how Sehun's eyes squints into crinkles and his bow-like lips get pressed together in an attempt to muffle his laughter.

 It's so fucking cute.

 "Hyung, come over here," Jongdae shouts from behind the counter, before ducking down and rummaging through God knows what. 

 "Be right back," Luhan murmurs, going towards the front counter with the words  _'EXODUS DINING',_ plastered in _fancy shmancy_ fonts. "What." Jongdae pops up, his apple hair bobbing as he wiggles it purposely. 

 "No work?"

 "Took the day off," Luhan peers at Sehun, who was scrolling mindlessly on his phone. "I needed it anyways."

 "Ahh," he nods, restocking the toothpicks in the china glass holder. "You already set up that appointment right? Want me to take you there?" 

 Luhan shakes his head. "I'll be fine."

 "If you say so," Jongdae pulls out two menus, but it's not like Luhan needed one. He had an easier time memorizing all the dishes than memorizing the Korean grammar. "Spending the day with Sehunnie?"

 "Sehunnie, yeah. I'm taking care of him overnight, too." Luhan plucks a toothpick out, just for the sake of snapping it in half. "He needs it, he's a walking zombie."

 "At least your couch is comfortable."

 "He takes my bed."

 Jongdae blinks, a strand of ramyun hair falling in front of one of the constellations of moles on his forehead. "What? But you... _you like your bed._ " He cranes his neck to take a dubious look at Luhan. "You don't let anyone touch your bed, except for like, Hyunjae. I can't even touch it! I'm your best friend!"

 Luhan shrugs halfheartedly. "Doesn't bother me whenever he's on my bed." He clears is throat roughly, rubbing the nape of his neck uneasily. Don't misunderstand me, Jongdae, don't. "I...my insomnia."

 "Yeah?"

 "It's better. Better, you know? When..." Luhan cast his eyes somewhere else, a habit he developed in middle school. Jongdae's my best friend my best friend. "Sehunnie's around, it's a lot better." 

 Jongdae smiles, and pats comfortingly on his hyung's back. "Sehun's a good kid."

 "He's not a kid."

 "I know."

 They head towards Sehun, in better air. Pressing the two menus on the table, Jongdae beams at Sehun. "I'm excited for your recital—with you now, you can steal that spotlight Jongin has been hogging." Sehun grins, a happy one that bares perfect rows of pearly teeth. "On the house."

 Sehun shakes his head. "No, no—"

 "Just take it Sehun-ah," Luhan says, turning his attention from Sehun's teeth to his phone. "Jongdae does it every year for Yixing and his studio." 

 "Okay."

  It's nice, that Jongdae has just to take a glance at Luhan and know exactly what he wants. It's wonderful, even, to have a restaurant so homey as a result of nine, dedicated years. It's soothing, to have Sehun across the table, hoping to adapt to the home-like structures Luhan had built in the busy heart of Seoul. 

 Luhan checks the messages from Hyunjae, who had sent a cute, moving sticker of a peach. Replying with one of his favorite stickers, the peach in water with what looked like a peach dick floating with it. Of course, her being pure as the driven snow, thinks of it as like a rubber ducky in the bathroom.

 He's pretty sure it's a dick though. 

 Luhan can't ignore the pang of guilt when sending a few more stickers to her, though it's hard to pinpoint what he was guilty for. Guilty for being too platonic to her, guilty for being too much—maybe. He sends a cuter sticker to her to ease the feeling, and turns towards Sehun. 

 Sehun finishes quickly what he was typing, before stuffing his phone back into his pocket. "Jongin just texted me about how he's swinging by your office to pester Kyungsoo-hyung."

 "As if he could get in the building." Luhan snorts, pouring the tea into the two tiny cups for the two of them. "Even the trash bins have a way of getting in." 

 Jongdae comes back with more than they ordered, Sehun taken back at the several, several side dishes placed gingerly on the shiny wooden table. Luhan grins, watching him like a little kid. "Jongdae makes food that are to die for," he says, moving the plates around so more of it is closer to Sehun. "There's not a day that I wonder why Kyungsoo didn't go into culinary."

 "Maybe he didn't want to make his hobby a career," Jongdae offers, setting the plates around nice and pretty. "I was surprise when you didn't go into football." Sehun looks surprised, and Luhan doesn't meet his eyes afterwards.

 Football.

 Luhan chuckles weakly, focusing on the sound of his chopsticks clicking together like a nervous beat. Football. He would've. He should have.

 But, he didn't.

 "Thanks, Jongdae," Luhan says, stabbing one of the shrimp cakes because it was easier than trying to grab it with his sticks. He leaves, and Sehun shyly decorates his plate with a color from each dish. "Eat up, Sehunnie." Luhan, with his arms extended and chopstick, plucks up enough japchae—more than enough, really—and sets it on Sehun's plate, before piling up more and more vegetables on it. "Energy is key for a good performance." 

 "You seem like you've care for a dancer before."

 Luhan puts some noodles on his plate, too. "Yixing in high school. Jongdae, Joonmyun and I would prep him up a night before to get all that stress out." It was those years when they saw the rare moments of Yixing in stress and on the brink of irritation. 

 "Thank you, again." Sehun swirls the japchae around his plate until it's layered. He chews on his lower lip, before rolling it out and turns his entire attention towards Luhan. "Why do you keep me around?"

 "Huh?"

 Sehun shrugs, his eyes shiny with genuine happiness. God damn it. "I'm just a college student that makes bubble tea," he picks up a piece of beef in between the metal chopsticks. 

  _Because you make the voices go away._  "Because you're a college student that makes bubble tea," he says instead for his reply, and that was all.

➳➳➳

 

Stomachs full and heavy, they leave the restaurant after waving goodbye and thanking Jongdae. Sehun pats his stomach and the corners of his lips tug up in a smile as he turns to Luhan. "That was great, I feel a lot better today."

"I'm glad," he replies, feeling content. Seoul's air is brisk again, Luhan in a coat he hastily snatched off the hook and a knitted hat from Tao when he was in those crochet-phase. "I should stop by Hyunjae's floral shop, to say hi." He looks over at Sehun, searching for a confirmation. "Is that alright with you?"

 "Definitely." Sehun slings an arm around Luhan, and he yelps. "You're cold, right?" His arm's pressed against Luhan's right cheek, his wrist sharp on his skin.

 "No."

 "Your nose is red, so are your ears," Sehun pats the apples of Luhan's cheeks, and he swears they got even redder afterwards. "My scarf, here take it."

 "No, then I'll feel stuffy," he pushes away Sehun's hand gently, fingers brushing against the warmth of his skin; an effect of him rubbing them in his coat pocket. 

 Despite his protests, Sehun unravels his scarf and wraps it gingerly around his neck, careful not to be so tight that he chokes but not so loose that he's cold. 

 "You don't listen to your hyungs, huh," Luhan huffs, raising a hand to press down a few layers so his mouth could breathe. "You really are a punk."

 Sehun pats both side of Luhan's shoulders, looking satisfied with how wrapped up he is. "Your weak immune system, I'm always on my toes about you."

  _Always._

 They don't bother to take the car again, walking to the floral shop isn't much. It feels like that Sunday to Luhan again, against the backdrop of pretty fall flowers that's seemingly dead and the sweet taste of bboki that stayed after it was gone.

 "What's Hyunjae like?" Sehun asks when it's quiet, say for the traffic honks and shouts in the background. "She's nice, but you never talk about her much." They move away a little bit when a little girl runs in between the gap of them. The gap between them lessens after they let the girl through, materials of their jackets rubbing against each other like a fever.

 Like a caretaker. Like a nurse. Like a—" _Lovely girl._ " Luhan replies, thinking of the sweet flowers that makes his apartment smell like her shop. "She stays with me...even if I'm not...even if I'm...not everything." 

 "You're stuttering," Sehun says softly, hand outreached to wrap around Luhan's arm. "You must be cold." 

  _So cold._

 Luhan shakes his head, pointing up ahead. "Her flower shop is close by," he says quickly, changing the matter of the subject. "There's not as many flowers in the winter, but it's still beautiful." He goes on to tell Sehun about the flowers that he never waters at home, because he forgets that they're there. "It smells nice, at least." He doesn't tell Sehun though, that when the flowers die, his home's devoid of colors once again.

 Nearing the shop, Luhan recognizes the cracks on the sidewalks he'd see often when visiting her, like grapevines trying to crawl back to home. And when he saw them, he'd step on the pretty cracks, wondering that if he could jump hard enough, would he fall.

  _Step on a crack, break your mama's back._

_  Mother's dead. _

 Except now, he's not stepping on the cracks on the sidewalk, but stepping into pattern against the tapping of Sehun's soles. "There's her shop, the one with the heart-shaped sign." He points, and Sehun looks in his direction and smiles. They're nearing the shop, and there's something that Luhan always does. He always, always peeps through the window, making a silly face at Jinri before she jeers at him. And if it was Hyunjae, he'd tap three times, so she'd know it's him without looking up.

 Except, he doesn't tap three times today.

 He doesn't tap at all.

 Though the window was mostly covered in plants out for display, he can't mistake Joonmyun's glasses that he always forgets to take off, and it's difficult to misunderstand the way his wrist touches her forearms, fingers in careful strokes on the bare skin of her upper arms; she's not wearing long sleeves like Luhan tells her to.

 He's not wearing a hideous sweater. Joonmyun. He looks manly, even. The way his veins trail on his skin like those cracks on the sidewalks Luhan steps on. The way they look at each other, the same one Luhan can't miss—not even one year, two years, four years can change the way he sees it. The way his hands are on Hyunjae, and she's not moving away. 

_She's not._

 They're talking, and he can't make them out. They're standing close and Jinri's not in sight, maybe she's in the back shop. Maybe she left.

 And so will Luhan.

 "Joonmyun-hyung—?" Sehun starts, but Luhan hastily grabs the younger one's hand, pulling him away quickly from the shop, away from the looking glass. They speed-walk across the street, passing that bakery that always has the sweet old woman pinching his cheeks, and walking pass the shop full of stationary. They walk past it all, Luhan half-dragging Sehun across, and Sehun not protesting, a protective grip on Luhan's own, freezing hands. "He...Joonmyun-hyung..."

 "We'll see flowers another day." Luhan says quietly, trying to smile as they stop in front of a music store. They can hear the faint music from here, but none of them are paying attention to it. "Should we head back home?"

 He feels cold again, but there's not that feeling that Tao described when he had his break up. It's not what he said it would feel like—anger, betrayal, hurt. There's nothing like that in Luhan right now and it just feels so wrong.

 "Luhan."

 There's no honorifics, there's no hierarchy. No seniority, just, Luhan. Suddenly that burden that came with being called hyung fades, and he's looking up at Sehun, whose eyes are unfamiliar with the intensity. "Yes?"

 He grabs both of Luhan's hands, warming them up. And Luhan lets him, letting his fingers run across his own fingers. "You're...are you okay?"

 "Yes."

  _No._

 _Just a pretty boy with no heart._  
 Sehun's still holding onto his hands, and Luhan curls his fingers in, so they're all warm against his. "Let's not talk about this, please." Luhan whispers, his head pounding with his voices that has been suppressed for nearly all day. He wishes that they stayed suppressed. "Later. I will, later." There's a lightening strike of emotions that plays across Sehun's features, before dispersing quickly and back to his passive face.

 Their hands are still intertwined, and he pulls them back to the car, and Luhan lets him. They swerve left and right to avoid passing people on the streets, and they're going too fast for Luhan to see the cracks on the sidewalks. His grip is so tight on his, he wonders if his hand hurts. Luhan tries to loosen it, not wanting to hurt him, but instead, Sehun holds on tighter, and there's that lingering sense of trust and protectiveness that came with him.

 They're walking faster than earlier when they were heading towards the shop, already seeing his car in the parking lot. Sehun halts to stop, turning his head towards Luhan, whose lower face is buried in the scarf bundle. "Keys?" He asks softly, and there's no pity in his eyes, none of those that makes Luhan sick to his stomach. They're just...his eyes.

 "I can drive."

 "As can I. don't worry, I won't crash your car." Luhan sighs, watching his visible air puff out before dying. He reaches a free hand into his pocket, fingers brushing against the cold metal. He drops it into Sehun's hand, and is pulled once again.  _There's no intent on letting go,_ Luhan thinks. 

 But it works both ways, too.

➳➳➳

Sehun's all used to it now. The change in air from outside to the apartment lobby is drastic. They take the stairs as usual because Luhan unfortunately lives on the sixth floor—he couldn't get one any lower—and Luhan presses the code into the number pad. _0520_. "You're welcome to my place anytime, the code's 0520." He says to Sehun, who nods. 

 Luhan barely takes off his second shoe when Sehun pulls him to the couch. "I—"

 Wordlessly, Sehun unravels the scarf around Luhan, and unzips his jacket so he could breath. He stands up and takes off his own hat and sets it on the table. Luhan looks questioningly at him, feeling unreasonably small sitting down. "You look tired again. Do you have hot chocolate I can make for you?" He nods slowly, watching Sehun leave for the kitchen. 

 "He really does make me feel like a crappy hyung." Luhan mumbles, to particularly, no one. Maybe to his voices, but they're in hiding again. And it's better that way, so that they don't probe at his nerves about  _Hyunjae, Hyunjae, Hyunjae, Sehun._

 His legs are a bit sore from the quick hopping of stairs earlier, so he curls up, groping for his blanket again. Luhan listens to the open and shuts of his cabinets, Sehun's mumbles as he shuts another cabinet. "It's in..." he trails off, when Sehun sighs in content, the rustling of packets being opened. By the time Sehun comes around for the fourth time, Luhan thinks he'll be able to map out the rest of his home.

 He stays like a fucking cocoon for a few minutes before there's a light tap on his head. Sehun carefully places the two cups on the table, glass clinking on glass as Luhan sits up, making room for him. "Thank you," he says, carefully slipping his hand through the mug handle and blowing gently on the drink like sail to wind. 

 Sehun's not saying anything, and there's an odd mixture of relief and disappointment that binds Luhan. They're both sipping their drinks quietly, cautious not to burn their lips or tongue. Careful not to burn each other.

 Luhan can see the bottom of his mug when Sehun finally speaks up. "Did I make it too watery?" He looks expectantly at him, eyes lightless and neutral; muted. "I'm not the best with measurements."

 "Not at all," he replies, voice cupped by the mug. He takes one more sip, before reaching his hand out to place it back on the table. "Sehun, I...look, I'm sorry. I was suppose to take care of you, shit, your recital tomorrow and I'm just..."

 "Just what?"

 "Just dragging you along on my self-pity party, I hate it." Not looking at Sehun, he hears a clink of mug on the table like his, and an arm snaking around his shoulder and pulling him closer to his chest. 

  _These are couple things, things people do when they're in love_

_  No no no. _

_  I don't know. _

 Rocking him, Sehun pats his back. "Shut up, hyung." Luhan chuckles, clutching onto a fist full of his shirt, because it smells like sweet pine trees. And maybe if he keeps pressing himself against Sehun's chest, he'll smell like pines, too, instead of dead flowers.

It's when Sehun started rubbing comforting circles into Luhan's back that he truly felt relaxed. "What you saw earlier,"

 "It's alright." Sehun murmurs soothingly, careful not to disrupt the silence they've created in the atmosphere. 

 "We're not in love." He rushes out in one jumble, and feels his vocal chords entangling each other like mother's tin box of sewing needles and knotty threads. "Not really. No one, no one knows. Not Jongdae, not Kris." Sehun doesn't say anything, and Luhan wonders if he even has anything to say. He continues to rub circles into Luhan's back, and there is no other moment that Luhan felt such warm.

 "We don't act like a couple, we just hold that label, and I don't know, we can't. I can't love her, and she doesn't want to love me. Don't mistake me." Luhan breathes out quickly, feeling his windpipes collapsing with every word he stutters out. "I-I'm not hurt. Not by that." Sehun gives the smaller one a squeeze, and there's a landing jet of guilt that breaks its turbulence of anxiety on him. "I...you didn't need to know,  _I'm sorry._ "

 "What else?" His words stirs the strands of Luhan's dark hair.

 "She just takes care of me," he whispers, voice dry and lacking. "I have a lot of problems I need to solve...she helps." There's a warning trigger in his head that clicks,  _don't tell anyone, why are you telling him?_  But he ignores it, continuing to press his small body against Sehun's broad chest. "I'm sorry, you don't need this."

 He peels himself off of Sehun, and his eyes are unreadable, his two thumbs rubbing on the protruding wrist bone on Luhan's tiny wrists. "Don't be." His careful strokes up and down his wrist makes Luhan's skin spike with tingles. "And as for your problems, it's okay. You'll be fine."

 Luhan freezes. "What do you know?" His mind lurks back to Jongdae watching him through careful eyes when asking about his appointments, and Joonmyun careful about certain topics. Everyday it's like he's a frozen lake, and his friends are crawling around the ice, anxious of the cracks.

 "I don't know anything really." Sehun's voice is a whisper, his eyes not leaving Luhan's. "But I can tell from the atmosphere when they mention certain things." Luhan trembles, tears pricking at his eyes but not falling. He won't let them fall. Sehun quickly grabs his small hands again, holding the soft flesh in his larger ones. "Don't push me away if you didn't want me to know. I don't know anything. I understand—I have my own issues, too."

  _I won't push you away._

 "Don't tell anyone," Luhan bores his glazed eyes through Sehun, fists clenching and releasing in his hands. "Pretend that we didn't see."

 "Okay." And, that was it. No questions, no messages of the eyes. Nothing, just Sehun.

 "Thank you."

 His head feeling heavy and his chest weighted, he shoots a tired smile at Sehun before slumping down next to him on the couch, his head pressed against Sehun's kneecap. Sehun presses a palm against Luhan's shoulder, rubbing up and down until Luhan's eyes dip into blank moons under his eyelids. 

 "Are you really older than me?" Sehun asks with a wry smile, hushed voice, eyes bright. Hand removed from Luhan's shoulder and against his hair to run light fingers through and through. It's like silk. It must be—silk fair fitted for the majesty of a pretty face that has no love. "I see you in a suit nearly every morning, you look so powerful, but like this..."

 "Like this...?"

 "You seem, so...so..." Sehun lets a curl of Luhan's hair fall between his fingers, trying to conjure up the perfect word. "Fragile."  _Not pretty, not useless, not a flower boy,_  and Luhan releases his anxiousness of waiting for those words, feeling utterly relieved.

 Yes, he'll accept fragile.

 "Fragile, huh?"

  _She was safe._

_He, he was not._

➳➳➳

His fingers fidgets against the sides of his keyboard, smacking his lips together in a popping sound, over and over. "What are you doing?" Kyungsoo looks over at him wearily, eyeing his restlessness. "Don't you have emails to finish up?" He gestures towards the computer screen, at the half written email Luhan had started but stopped to tap against his desk.

 "I'm not doing anything," Luhan replies lightly, folding his hands together in lace, avoiding the need to tap. "Working. I'm working." Chanyeol stops scrawling across his papers, and peers over at the two. Chanyeol had stopped asking for the bubble tea, saying he's been drinking it straight for almost two months, and in his hand is a near-empty cup of slush that Baekhyun whipped up.

 Chanyeol never drinks coffee, so fruity slushies are his 'thing' for now, mainly because Baekhyun makes them extra sweet for the future-diabetic, using his slush-maker machine efficiently. 

 Kyungsoo switched up flavors, whereas Luhan still kept to that taro-special of Sehun's. "You seem so bright today." Chanyeol coos, flicking against the plastic straw before tossing it into the trash bin. "Luhan-hyung, so sparkly." Luhan sniffs, and hurls an open-cap pen towards the giant. 

 Kyungsoo blanches. "Awful word choice." He peers at the digital clock on Luhan's desk, and shoves his papers aside, sighing heavily. "Fuck, I'll just finish tomorrow night." There's too many red inks on the papers, to the point where it looked like splatter blood. "I can't believe the recital is on a weekday this year."

 "It's a Friday."

 "I don't care," he grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck in a sigh. "Still a weekday." Luhan pats the doe-eyed Kyungsoo on the shoulder, before quickly redirecting his attention back to his emails. The quicker they get sent out, the quicker he can get home. Home and shower, buy flowers. Stuff everybody's gifts in overly-expensive gift bags and dumb tissue paper. 

 Because tissue papers makes things fancy.

 Kyungsoo organizes his papers while muttering something about how hard it was to find a gift for Taemin, because 'he's a little twit with literally every fucking pair of shoes.' Office hours are near the end, meaning Chanyeol is more hyper than usual, pestering Luhan like a bug in summer heat. "Luhan-hyungie, hyungie!" Chanyeol pokes at his cheeks, which Luhan puffs out.

 "Get out of my air, Chanyeol." Luhan quickly presses send, before swirling around in his chair. "If you aggravate me before the recital I'll offer Yixing a limping sack of skin and blood as props for the stage."

 Chanyeol recoils, and takes a step back, tugging at a loose strand of hair where its roots have turned to his natural color. "Kyungsoo has been rubbing off on you," he mutters, falling back on his seat. 

 Kyungsoo leaves first, saying he'll see them at the recital and get ready for drinks at Jongdae's afterwards. He turns towards Chanyeol with a questioning glance, before disappearing out to the hall. Luhan waves a limp goodbye before turning back to his emails—three more to go. Chanyeol's humming to one of those God awful songs Jongdae got him into, spinning around mindlessly; his stuff in his briefcase and his computer shut.

 "Why are you still lingering around?" Luhan spares a moment to blink at him. "You've finished your stuff, you can race off to the nearest sweet shop again." Chanyeol laughs awkwardly, and this time, Luhan really does look at him. Chanyeol never laughs weakly. It's always full blown or in snickers. "What?"

 "Hyung, I uhm, can I ask something?" Chanyeol pulls slightly at his fingers, eyes bright with a looming curiosity that borders on intense.

 "Ok."

 "We've been friends for how long? Forget the numbers, we've been friends since our first year of college, right? Yes that's right. We're close. Office buddies. Buddies. We even shared underwear once, or was that with Baekhyun—"

 "What the fuck are you going on about?" Luhan stares at him, watching the rambling idiot trip over his own words. "Spit it out, Yeollie."

 Chanyeol face twitches in an argument that flares inside him, and he offers a weak smile to Luhan. "You and Sehun, you've been spending a lot of time together, yeah? And...you even let him into your bed—Jongdae told me—and...the way he looks, the way you look at..." 

 Luhan's stomach clenches. "What are you saying?" 

 "It's like I'm watching Hyunjae and you...but with Sehun in her stead." Chanyeol tugs at his collar, eyes full of wonder and blinding curiosity. "There's nothing wrong but I-I just see it like that."

 "I don't know what you're talking about."

 "Sehun and you..."

 With a shaky hand, Luhan presses 'send' and stares at his shoes, refusing to meet Chanyeol's eyes. "You're silly," he forces out, followed by a trembling laugh that makes Luhan cringe. "Are you saying that I'm-I'm _gay?_ I'm not, Chanyeol. I'm normal." His unsettling laugh turns dry as the air in the room.

 Chanyeol furrows his brows together. "Being gay doesn't make you not normal—"

 "I'm not gay," Luhan repeats, a little bit louder this time. He hopes Seulgi or Minho isn't in the hall outside. "I'm not." His head shoots up, strands of hair following in front of his forehead. Boring his eyes into Chanyeol, Chanyeol presses his lips together and nods slowly.

 "Okay, okay, I'm sorry." Chanyeol says, an apologetic look glazes over his eyes and pins down a frown. "I didn't mean it like that." Luhan's eyes flickers to his computer screen's calendar. Appointment. His appointment is in a week, _he can handle a week._

 His throat feels clogged, his chest bound with stress too tight. Luhan swallows, his tongue feeling like sandpaper and his teeth gritting against each other like rocks. "Do you guys always talk about me like that?" Luhan rubs his hands and down his thighs, a nervous habit. "I'm your friend, not a fucking gossip pet."

 Chanyeol stares incredulous at the older one. "Hyung, of course you're not," he says in disbelief. " _We don't talk about you like that, you...need to be taken care of._ " 

_Taken care of._

 It lingers.

 "Just stop worrying about me." Luhan snaps and jerks up from his seat, hastily turning off his computer. Chanyeol recoils, and Luhan hesitates, guilt burying itself into his chest, and he himself flinches from his tone. "I'm tired. I already set up that fucking appointment. Do you need to call Dr. Ryeowook for confirmation? Do you want to check my medical papers?" He doesn't back down though, the guilt being spiked through by fear and anxiousness. "Fuck, do you want to check my health too? Why don't you just march down to him and ask, ' _is Luhan still mentally okay?"_

  _you don't have friends._

_  Yes I do. _

_  pretty boys dont have friends _

 "Hyung, I'm sorry." Chanyeol looks exhausted, and pulls his jacket over himself, his eyes hooded with shadows and avoiding Luhan's. "I, I'll go now. I'll see you at the recital."

 Chanyeol leaves quietly, and Luhan slumps down against the file cabinet when the door shuts. 

➳➳➳

Hyunjae's already with Yixing managing flowers, so he comes alone. Her shop had donated roses for the stage floor, and Luhan remembers how excited Yixing was when he texted him after leaving the building. To keep short, he couldn't type right and some of his writing went from Hangul to Chinese.

 In the passenger seat, bouquets of flowers bundled up up in pretty wrapping sits between the little gifts Luhan bought for the three dancers. 

 Glancing at his watch, he groans, and takes a turn. Luhan had spent more time then he thought in his office, a spluttering mess in the shower and wrestling into his clothes. He couldn't afford to be late; he wouldn't dare. With Sujeong only working the shop—Jinri was off shift and Hyunjae gone—with a bare smile she handed him the three bouquets, and hastily giving his thanks, he rushed out to his car, cursing himself for running short on time.

 Kris had already reserved them seats in the front, so that eased off his shoulders. If anything, Luhan wants to see Jongin, Taemin and Sehun on stage, under the bright light up close.

 Parking, done. Being suffocated by the large as fuck flowers and gifts, of course. Blindly running towards the building with the chance of being hit by a car? Top of the list.

 Luhan elbows the door open, holding it with his foot before rushing upstairs. Having attended all their recitals in the same venue, he goes up to the second floor and down the hall, take a left. The smell of flowers overwhelms him, scrunching up his nose as the wrapping tickles his skin. 

 Bursting into the theater room, he catches sight of Kris in the front, and with heavy breaths, Luhan walks on the sidelines towards the front, thankful to see the seat reserved for him. "Sorry, I'm not late, am I?" Luhan asks sheepishly, pressing the flowers on his lap as Kris helps him with the gifts. 

 "Not at all," he replies, placing the three bags on the floor next to them. "Traffic?" Jongdae makes an _ohh sound_ and peers through the bags, snorting at Taemin's bag. Tao smacks Jongdae on the arm, and his hair is tinted a bright purple. Right, Baekhyun took him to dye his hair.

 "Something like that." He feels a pair of eyes on him, and it's Chanyeol. Looking up, his eyes flickers away, and Chanyeol shifts uncomfortably in his seat next to Joonmyun. 

 _Joonmyun._  

 "Where's Hyunjae?" Luhan takes a glance at the empty seat beside him, her coral-colored coat laid neatly in her seat. "Is she still with Yixing backstage?"

 Kyungsoo shakes his head. "She went to the restroom."

 "Oh." Luhan peels off his coat and looks hopefully at Chanyeol, waiting for him to look back. But he doesn't, his eyes staring at the stage forcefully, thumbs twiddling and a shaking leg. A short huff of a sigh, he nudges Kris. "Hey, switch with me? Need to talk to Chanyeol about work." Kris shrugs and stands up, and Luhan thanks him before plopping down.

 Chanyeol stiffens, eyes blinking rapidly. God, he's nervous. Fucking Chanyeol is nervous, Luhan thinks ruefully. "Hey, Yeollie, look at me." He whispers, low enough that only the two of them can hear. "Don't make me tug on your ears."

 He looks over at Luhan finally, eyes hung on his skin. "Hyung..I'm sor—"

 "I'm sorry," Luhan interrupts, drawing an apologetic smile. "I was just stressed about the day, and it just got to me. I didn't mean to snap at you." Chanyeol brightens, and fully turns his waist towards him, grabbing his hands into his. Chanyeol's hands are bigger than Sehun's, his own small hands feeling like it's in a cave of flesh.

 "No, no, I shouldn't have brought it up. I didn't mean to. It's just that you seem so much healthier this year and we all want you to stay healthy and, and..." Chanyeol just stops, flashing his perfect rows of teeth. "I'm happy."

 "You're always happy."

 "I know." Chanyeol uncuffs his hands away from Luhan, wiggling back comfortably in his seat. Joonmyun looks curiously over at them with a gentle smile, noticing the slight change of mood, lighter. Chanyeol's louder again, giddy like a schoolgirl. "I'm excited. Yixing kept saying it's bigger this year, their best."

 "It's always their best." Joonmyun says, patting Chanyeol by the armrest. He smiles softly at Luhan, and Luhan nods, taking in sharp air before turning towards the front again. They watch the doors open and close with people, faces buried in flowers and shuffling heels and leather shoes. Hyunjae's back from the restroom, only a quick gaze between each other before turning their ways with soft smiles that meant little.

 Luhan taps against the glass of his phones, messages of 'good luck' remained unread with the little '1' next to it. The flowers tickles at his thighs, and he shifts them a little bit, asters for Taemin, carnations for Jongin, and yellow roses for Sehun. It's when he's tracing his ring finger across the soft petals of the roses, that the lights dim down, and Chanyeol and Baekhyun's excitement spikes, with Jongdae grinning cheekily. 

 His head shoots up, eyes on the stage, the flowers on his lap crinkling. The stage hazes over with a ray of violet, curtains becoming pillars against the harshness of contrast between black and bright stage lights. There are the rose petals scattered like rocks, and it takes only a few seconds for the audience to stare in awe at the pretty stage before the eight dancers appear, soon to be melted into the scenery.

 Among the eight dancers, Luhan spots Jongin first, him in the front. Eyes glazed with dark eyeliner that even he can see from the pit, the klutzy waiter that messes up Luhan's sodas, whose studies are rolling down a hill—that is gone. Jongin's bronze fleshes out the light, bright against the other dancers, his lip tugged up like a stitching into a smirk.

 His head cocks itself in the right timing, gentle hands that dances by his sides. His waist takes a spin towards the back, revealing two more dancers to the front, Taemin being one. His cheekbones sharp, he doesn't smirk—he doesn't know how to—like Jongin, but keeping an impassive face stays as his charm, hair curling inward at his temple, falling before coated eyelids in charcoal. 

 "Damn," Chanyeol murmurs. "Their stylist went all out on them."

 Everyone ignores him, or just doesn't respond. Taemin slides one foot in front, the choreography that Luhan has seen a few times when stopping by their studio. Luhan blinks, but after his lashes fluttered out of his eyes, Taemin disappears from the front, leaving only the unknown dancer in front before switching out with another one.

 There is no Sehun, and despite all of the dancers wearing makeup, he spots no leaned figure whose silky hair flops whenever he makes a sudden movement. There's a slight sink of disappointment when he realizes Sehun's not apart of the first choreo, but it disappears quickly when he catches sight of his friends across the stage, interlacing between limelight and fellow dancers. 

It's not until that the first dance ends, leaving only four dancers before two more slips from behind the pillars of curtains. And one of two is a tall, leaned figure, whose white dress shirt clings to his torso along with dark eyes that ruptures the barrier between the stage and pit. And it's Sehun, arms against his own chest before falling into step with the other dancers. Sehun.

 His face ghostly under the lights, unlike the beautiful glow of Jongin's skin, his eyes of stone slates and black hue. The sweet face of Oh Sehun who works the early morning shifts at a tea shop and doodles on customers' cups, seems to be of a missing memory when there's a sinner on stage.

 The work of the Devil spits out a sinner in white shirts and dance shoes.

➳➳➳

 "Hyung!" Jongin rushes towards Kyungsoo with a cheeky smile and his dress shirt clinging onto his skin. Kyungsoo squeaks a sound of protest as the sweaty younger one lunges himself at him, fumbling arms wrapping around him in a koala-hug. 

 "So unsanitary," Kyungsoo mutters, face flushed. His arms are wrapped around Jongin, too. "You're crushing the flowers. Expensive flowers." Jongin unravels himself off of Kyungsoo, hugging the flowers close to his chest. Taemin slings a free arm around Jongin's shoulders, mushing his cheek into Sehun's, gleeful and giddy. The three of them get cluttered into an awkward 'group hug', Jongdae hooting out broken English words like 'yo' or 'nice man'! 

 Taemin barely holds up all the flower bouquets, careful not to crush any of them but not wanting them to fall. "I might develop an allergy to flowers." He shouts over all the talking and shouts of 'congratulations', his eyeliner slightly smudged. Yixing barks out a laugh, pulling him into a squeeze.

 "You guys did it again!" Yixing turns towards Sehun, arms extended and pulling him into a tight hug, rocking Sehun back and forth. Sehun squirms for a second, before relaxing into Yixing's excited grasp. "And you, your first recital since you came here." He laughs, and Luhan stares at the sweat that lined the slope of his nose, his neck lined with his white shirt and eye makeup intact, unlike Jongin and Taemin's.

 Sehun catches Luhan's eyes, and he quickly looks away, pressing the flowers into all of their hands, their gift bags too. "Congratulations, you guys can finally sleep." Luhan smiles softly, eyes flickering back and forth, trying to maintain as little eye contact with Sehun as much as possible—no more than two seconds. Jongin squishes his cheek next to Luhan's, eagerly prying opening the bag.

"50,000 won gift card for Petsy's Chicken," Jongin chuckles, eyes filling into moon crescents. "And Hunter X Hunter? D'awh, hyung you're so sweet." Jongin jabs at Luhan's cheeks, squishing it with a boop.

 "Don't fucking boop me." Luhan mutters, Taemin dismissing it and pinching his other cheek, gleefully shaking his video set of One Piece. "You're all anime dweebs." Luhan ducks from anymore probing of their fingers, hiding behind Tao with a twitching eye. Hyunjae pats the three on the shoulders, congratulating and they all nodded eagerly, grinning and pride lacing in between the flesh of their skin and bones.

 It's Sehun whose eyes flicker over to Luhan momentarily when Hyunjae talks to him, and Luhan knows it's about that. Of sidewalk cracks, they sort of all end up remembering it. Some in intervals, and some, some remember it all. 

 And maybe it's because Sehun's standing too close, or maybe it's just Sehun in general. Luhan fiddles with his sleeves, smiling whenever Joonmyun tries to be funny or when Jongdae ruffles up Kyungsoo's fluffy hair. His timing was nearly perfect. Luhan's eyes darted to Sehun, who is lingering next to him, their arms not touching at all. His sleeves are rolled up, his veins like inked vines on his pale skin.

 Somehow, he manages to hold all of his flowers in one arm, and Luhan's gift to him in the other, untouched. He's glowing, really glowing. It's the filter of pride. You're being silly. Luhan takes a deep breath, and cranes his neck slightly, just enough to have eye contact with Sehun. "I hope you like your gift," he says softly, motioning towards the pastel blue bag that seems pathetically tiny in Sehun's hands. "Congratulations, I enjoyed watching you dance."

 "I'll love anything from you, and thank you." Sehun says sweetly, and Luhan's stomach flops with an intensity that makes him want to double over. Chanyeol's words drips into his skull, seeping into the cushions of his brain that cages his voices.

  _You, Luhan, you are—_

_  No. _

_  Pretty boys have no boundaries. _

 Luhan grips at his sleeves, nails digging into his palms.

_"You and Sehun, you've been spending a lot of time together, yeah—"_

When nobody's looking, he presses his palms against the shells of his ears, eyes shut.

It doesn't go away.

➳➳➳

"Drinks!" Taemin sloshes his shot glass around, face glowing and his sleeves damp with his poor eye coordination when it comes to pouring drinks. His face's strip of makeup, hair pulled back and bouncing as he downs another glass. Yixing smiles and shakes his head, clutching a small glass in his hands that has barely has touched. "I've been deprived," he moans, running his index finger across the rim of the shot. "How can someone be friends with 9 different liquor shop owners, Yixing-hyung, you barely drink!"

 Exodus' sign faces them with the ' _Opened'_ sign, the _'Closed'_ waving off on the other side. Instead of cluttering in the back like they usually do when his restaurant is still running, they spread all around the place, Jongdae and Yixing lounging on the couches near the entrance, and Joonmyun leaning against the counter, sometimes pressing the little bell on the desk.

 "Hey, Baekhyun! Pass me that platter." Jongdae shouts, motioning the fruit plate that Baekhyun's been munching on, mostly the watermelons. He sticks his tongue out, stuffing another watermelon slice into his fat-ass mouth. Chanyeol stabs the grapes with a toothpick and eating them skewered, because it makes him feel fancy. Tao whines loudly when he eats all the red grapes, leaving him with only the sour ones.

 Hyunjae sits with Luhan, the both of them with gold liquid sitting in the rested glass. "They look so happy after weeks of stress." She notes, running a hand through her hair. "Doesn't Sehun look so happy?"

 Luhan stares at him, hitting Jongin on the shoulder and laughing loudly at what he said, Kyungsoo muffling a chuckle. Sehun's makeup is off too, his freckles bare and visible. He swallows, his throat burning. "Yeah, he does." His shoulders stiffens with Hyunjae talking, thoughts of yesterday's flower shop and sidewalk cracks. He wonders what runs through her minds.

 He wonders how Joonmyun is, weaved in her thoughts, whereas Luhan's are cobwebbed and cloudy. There's the bottle next to them with a plate in leftover grease from the beef cooked. He throws his head back and downs the rest of his drink. "Luhan, don't drink too much." Hyunjae says, frowning slightly at his now empty glass. "You're usually bad with your intakes."

 "I can drink tonight," Luhan murmurs, staring at the droplets before wrapping his fingers around the neck of the bottle, pouring enough that it sloshes over with a slight movement. "I can sleep tonight." He doesn't even like soju much, unless with chicken—but tonight is an exception. It burns his mouth, but it also burns away thoughts of Joonmyun, Hyunjae, and Sehun.

 It doesn't burn away Chanyeol's words, though.

 "You're not talking to Sehun much." Hyunjae slides her drink away, tapping the edge of the table with her pretty pastel nails. "You barely talked to him after the show." Again.

 It's always again.

 And maybe it's the alcohol that leaves his system unfiltered. "Fuck, why do you all bring that up? Am I not capable of being a damn person?" Luhan snaps, gripping the glass in his hand so tightly that his knuckles are of snow. Hyunjae, taken back, her eyes only a fraction wider. Oh. "I...I didn't mean to snap at you, I-I'm sorry." He catches Joonmyun in the corner of his eye, watching them intently, and all he wants to do is curl up and shut his eyes.

 Why does it feel like I'm the one in the wrong between the three?

 _so wrong wrong wrong WRONG_  
   
 "It's alright," she replies calmly, offering a reassuring smile before pulling hair back. "I didn't mean it like that. He's just...good. I'll leave you to your drinks, okay? Don't drink too much." She stands up and flattens out her shirt, before making her way towards Joonmyun and Kris, asking for a glass of water.

"Wait..." Luhan drops his head, no reflection in his drink. But she's gone; _she was never here._

 Baekhyun continues stuffing his face with sweets after finishing up the watermelons, Kyungsoo animatedly talking about something to Yixing, arms gesture and big eyes. Jongdae calls Luhan, something about watching a funny video. But Luhan only shakes his head, tipping another glass, watching the drink splatter on the sides.

 It's maybe the seventh or ninth glass before there's someone in front of him, in a white shirt and a glass of water in hand. "Hyung." Luhan blinks slowly, once, twice. He raises his eyebrows and settles them down again, blinking to rid his vision of haze and spotted light. "Hyung, you should tone down on your drinks, I know you're not good with handling them." Sehun slides the glass in front of him, two cubes floating above like glaciers.

 "I'm an adult," Luhan mutters, staring in awe at his hands. The nail marks welted and red from earlier, harsh contrast against his soft flesh. "I can drink if I want to." He fists up his palms to hide the red, nudging the glass away and shaking his head. His accent is noticeable, he knows. No filter to back him up. "I need some, anyways."

 "Are you okay?" Sehun asks quietly, watching the older through careful eyes. "You're not talking to anyone."

 "I'm fine." 

 "You're not talking to me at all."

 "I don't have to talk to you all the fucking time," Luhan growls, letting the last bit in the bottle into his glass. " _Fuck,_ Sehun." He flinches, and maybe if Luhan wasn't already drunk over the moon, he'd fall quickly out of this mess and apologize. But he is drunk, and he doesn't. 

 His hand reaches out for Luhan's glass, taking it away quickly without spilling it. Before Luhan can protest, Sehun downs it quickly, pushing the glass aside and further away from Luhan. "Stop." Sehun pries open his fingers, and hesitates at the red marks, before fitting the cold glass of water into his hand. "Drink, you'll be dehydrated."

 He glares at him—well tries to, his eyes are bit glazed—"Stop babying me." His mind chains him down with the clicks of fast recent memories. 

 

_"But you don't really make any friends,"_

_"It's like I'm watching Hyunjae and you...but with Sehun in her stead."_

_"Sehun's a good kid."_

_"Hyunjae might be jealous of Sehun for all that attention you give him."_

 

 "I'm not babying you, hyung." Sehun's voice wavers, and he can tell he's trying to keep face and to keep his voice. "You just let Hyunjae walk away earlier, I saw, and you won't even look at me in the face and you're not talking. I'm not babying you. I'm not."

 "How many times do I have to tell you that it's different between me and her." Luhan snaps, letting the water dewdrops trickling onto his hands. "I don't have to do any of that shit." Sehun looks younger, freckled face and hair that seems so soft. His eyes looks sad, Luhan thinks, but maybe it's the blur that comes with drinks that mistaken him.

 "Hyung..."

 

_"...and...the way he looks, the way you look at..."_

 

_ push him away _

_  I don't want to. _

 Luhan rubs his eyes tiredly, his words accented and slurred. "I'm fine." He stares at the two empty green bottles next to him, and leans on his arm. "I can sleep tonight, now." The last part is mumble, and he expects to see the white shirt disappear from his line of sight, but Sehun stays there, not saying anything. "Sehun."

 "I'll sit here." Sehun says quickly. "I won't...bother you, burden you."

_ You're not a burden. _

_  I want you to talk to me. _

_  can't can't can't can't _

 Sehun presses his lips together in a thin line, arms crossed and watching Luhan gaze intensely at his empty glass. "I want another." He says loudly, pointing at his shot glass. "I need another."

 "That's enough."

 "You drank, too, Sehunnie." Luhan locks his eyes with him, only his blinks a bit too much, wetting dry eyes. "I saw you. I was watching you drink."  _I was watching the bobbing of your Adam's apple, your lips that rolls in and out of your mouth, teeth grazing them. I was watching you laugh, and smile that sweet smile._

 "I did drink," he says softly. "But I'm good with my alcohol."

 "I am too."

 "No, you're not." Sehun smiles, and pats his own cheek. "You're all red from your drinks, and your words slur, it's...it's cute." And there's the slight moment that Luhan really wants to limp against the taller one, pulling his shirt closer to him because the pine smell is relaxing, and sleep against his heartbeat, again.

 _Almost,_ he feels that way.

"Shut up." Luhan mutters. He turns his neck the other way, so he's staring at napkin dispensers and salt shakers. His palms are sweaty, and he rub his knee mindlessly. Thoughts strikes at him, thoughts of Chanyeol watching them and furthering his curiosity, thoughts of misconceptions, of misunderstanding.

 He can't have that.

 His head feeling light, he staggers while heaving himself off the seat, Sehun shooting up, as if to steady him from across the table. "I'm fucking fine, stop touching me!" Luhan slurs, his arms flailing away from Sehun's hold. And Sehun freezes, his arms going limp before falling to his sides. "Shit, stop making me into the bad guy here." And he's aware, of Yixing watching them with a frown, concern plastered so clearly over his head.

 Luhan shuffles to the counter, pulling out another bottle. Joonmyun looks surprised, and puts out a hand before Luhan can bring it back to his corner. "Luhan..." Luhan huffs, and pulls away, cradling the bottle that came with drowning away stress. He avoids Jongdae's gaze, and Hyunjae's, too. 

_ help me forget _

 The staring contest with the floor took the wrong turn, a yelp and cold liquor running down his shirt, Chanyeol fumbling with his glass. His eyes widens, and lets out a squeak. "H-hyung, I didn't mean to, I...I-I..." Chanyeol splutters, settling his glass down and struggling with the napkin dispenser. 

 "Luhan," Hyunjae furrows her brows together, lips parted in protest. "Your shirt, don't look at the ground when you're walking!" she pulls out a few wads of napkins, more than Chanyeol could. Arms extended, she reaches out to dab at the growing stain on Luhan's shirt. But he moves away slightly, stumbling in the process. Hyunjae hesitates, her hands faltering with the napkins in her clutch.

 "I can clean myself up." He mutters, frowning slightly at the very noticeable stain that spreads on his gray shirt. Reluctantly setting down the soju bottle, he lifts his shirt up slightly, just enough to peel away that stickiness from his skin. He stands a little bit far enough that neither Chanyeol or Hyunjae could come at him with dabbing napkins, and offers a soft smile to the giant. "It's alright."

 "Hyung, I have a spare shirt in the break room—the blue one is the clean one!" Jongin offers, and Taemin snorts, hitting him on the shoulder about his other gross shirts. Luhan nods, taking a glance at the break room door that's plastered in fliers and sticky notes from Jongdae about break hours.

 Luhan turns his back to them, avoiding messy eye contacts with Sehun, who's standing up from the table they were sitting at, in the far back of the restaurant.

➳➳➳

 Luhan pushes open the bathroom, Jongin's blue shirt in his fist. Tossing it on the sink, he takes heavy steps towards it, a little bit of the soju already wearing off. But the drinks won't wear off completely, not until it's the late mornings with a pang of pain and regret. His shirt reeks of whatever liquor Chanyeol was consuming, the smell too close to his nose. Hastily unbuttoning his shirt, he stares back at the reflection of a man whose eyes are rimmed with the same red undertone as the nail marks on his palms, and knotty hair from running fingers. 

 Pulling off his shirt and leaving him to be nipped by the cold air from the air conditioner, he dumps the shirt into the sink, groping at the faucet until water spills over his shirt completely. It'll stain, if he doesn't wash it off now. Hand under the soap dispenser, squirting out a pink gel that stings his palms, making him wince. 

 It stings.

_ you deserve more pain for— _

_  Stop. _

_  —for being disgusting, you terrible ga— _

_  I'm. Not. _

 Luhan scrubs at his shirt too harshly, his hands whimpering but quiets down quickly when the water hits his flesh. The stain lightens, and the stench washed away.

 He doesn't notice the door opening, and someone coming in.

 It's only when the door quietly shuts that he looks up, watching the figure behind him through the mirror, in simple white shirts and veiny wrists exposed.

 In normal circumstances, Luhan would yelp and shout at whoever walked onto him shirtless—hence not being a fan of public pools—but the air between him and Sehun is suffocating the both of them with bitter alcohol and soap.

  _so suffocating._

 His hands falters, his skin not stinging and the water's running. "You should always knock," Luhan says, voice weighed down by his lack of focus and bitter drinks. "What if I was shirtless?"

 Sehun stares at him, eyes flickering with amusement and something else. Something else. "You are shirtless, hyung." He rubs at his wrists unconsciously, and Luhan swallows, the need—the want, of pressing his fingers down on his veins, lightly and running up his forearms. The fight he put up earlier in the restaurant seems small now, a lazy grin spread against Luhan's lower half of his face; it doesn't reach his eyes.

 He steps away from the sink, the water's still running and splashing down on his shirt. "Then maybe it was best to knock," he says, nearly inaudible against the water streams and the air conditioner. He shivers, the cold nearly waking him up but it's not enough. "I didn't chase you away with my comments earlier? I wasn't mean enough, right?"

 Sehun takes one step closer cautiously, his eyes flickering up and down from Luhan's face and his exposed chest, arms, neck. "Why were you trying to chase me away?" He whispers, though there's only the two of them here, in the bathroom that's down the long hall, past the front desk of Jongdae's restaurant.

 And it's just them, because his voices are caged and silent.

 It's most definitely just them, because all their friends are in the dining, with many empty beer bottles and spread out dishes of sweets and late night dinner.

 And something clicks inside him, the light switch that Luhan always tried to balance in between flickers, and it's now darkness.

 In a rushed breath, Luhan smiles tiredly, and this one finally reaches his eyes. "Good, I didn't want to be mean to you." His words are less slurred, but more throaty and low. Unlike Sehun who only took one step, he takes several steps, until Sehun's up in front of him and he can count the sweet freckles that dots along his nose in stardust specks.

 "Hyung..." Sehun swallows, careful hands by his sides. "I think you had a bit too much to drink." Luhan bites the inside of his cheek, his mind in a haze, but his heart is clear and free of any drinks or voices. 

_ Just let go, now. _

 "Put the shirt on me." Luhan murmurs, pointing lazily towards Jongin's blue shirt that sat in a messy wad on the sink. Sehun's eyes follow his hands, watching the water droplets on his hand take a dip towards the ground before shattering. "Put it over me."

 "I—"

 "It's quick," Luhan says quietly, looking directly up at Sehun. "Won't you do this for your hyung?" His stomach churns, and unlike those nights where they sleep or resting against each others' shoulders, this feels different. His heart slams against his rib cages and Sehun's breath is hot on Luhan's hair. the smell of soju is in the tight air between them.

 "I don't want you..." Sehun murmurs, and Luhan suddenly feels sick, and he waits for Sehun to pull away. No. "I don't want you to wear Jongin's shirt." He peers out one eye, and with a sharp breath intake, Sehun with quick fingers unbuttons his white shirt, and Luhan's eyes catches sight of the smooth skin on Sehun's neck that stretches over a sharp jawline and his Adam's apple. 

 Completely motionless, he lets Sehun slip his arms through the white sleeves that are slightly transparent. Luhan doesn't stop staring at Sehun, who's left in a thin wife beater and the change of eyes. "It smells like you. The shirt, it's of pines," he whispers, moving a little bit closer until he could see the thin film of sweat on Sehun's neck. 

 He doesn't answer him, and with Luhan and arms covered in the sleeves, his slim fingers works its way to the buttons. Sehun's fingers trail the outline of the shirttail before crawling up, careful fingers buttoning the first one. "It's my favorite, pines. Whenever you're near me, I just want to pull you in close." Luhan continues, watching his apple bob up and down. 

 Sehun does the second button. 

 "It's especially best near your neck," Luhan whispers, voice low. "Right where it meets your jawline." And maybe it's the alcohol that speaks for him, stringing him along like a puppet with his heart on a harp.

 Sehun hesitates at the third button, a sharp breath that shakes. His hands barely brushes against his hot skin, the faint outlines of abs worked for at the gym. "You're so drunk." Sehun says, followed by a stiff laugh, sweat near his temple. "Hyung...you don't know what you're talking about."

 Luhan raises his hand that's covered by the cuffed sleeves, and presses it against Sehun's, making his palm flat against Luhan's stomach, and he shivers, his fingers cool against his burning skin. "I _am_ drunk." Luhan guides Sehun's hand, torturing himself by pulling it slowly up his chest, having it rest against his pounding heart. "So fucking drunk." His breathing hitches when Sehun curls his fingers in, pressed against his sensitive skin.

 And all his voices and conscience unhinges from Luhan when his back slams against the gray wall, Sehun's palm cradling the back of Luhan's head carefully, fingers gripping a fist full of knotty hair and Luhan's cold hands gripping on the oh so thin shirt Sehun has on him. Three buttons that hands loosely on Luhan, the others baring exposed skin.

 Kisses with Hyunjae taste of honey and her favorite coconut lip balm. 

 Kisses with Sehun leaves the remains of soju and mint, smothering lips that are chapped and grazes Luhan's own soft ones. Luhan's grip on his shirt loosens and moves to his hip, holding them tightly against his, his head a whirlwind of messy thoughts and muddled questions. Nails digging into Sehun's skin, he removes his hand from under Luhan's head, cupping his jaw and the light traces of his fingers against his skin.

 The water's still running, and Luhan finds his waist hitting the sink basin. He winces, but Sehun's hands are racing up and down his waist. There's a moan that sticks in the air—unsure whose it is— Sehun's lips unsticks from Luhan's, and he whimpers, cold hair biting and lashing at his swollen lips and the ends of his shirt wet from being dipped into the sink. Luhan hastily removes a hand from Sehun's chest, switching off the faucet and the water shuts. 

 Sehun and Luhan, chest to chest, and heavy panting, spares a second of a glance. "So _drunk,_ " he whispers, craning his neck so his teeth are grazing the sensitive skin on Luhan's neck. His hands at Sehun's chest falters as he suppresses a gasp, rolling his bottom lip into his mouth, sinking his teeth down until it felt numb. Though intoxicated, Luhan's eyes widened a fraction before turning towards the door. "I locked it earlier." Sehun murmurs against the blooming red on the side of Luhan's neck, and he shuts his eyes, rolling his head back as Sehun breathes sweet, soju-scented breaths on his skin. 

 With cold hands Luhan slips his hand under Sehun's shirt, watching him shudder from the touch. His fingers pitter pattering against his rib cages where skin stretches over his bones like a bed sheet. "So beautiful." Luhan breathes out, watching the younger one's lashes flutter against cheekbones. His hands are ghosts against Sehun's stomach, light teases that leaves Sehun in shakes.

 In bliss. He's in bliss.

   
_break my will and i swear we'll love tonight_

➳➳➳

He knows he went home alone.

Saturday, and like any Saturday, he'd wake up belittled by his too-much blankets and his hands sweaty from his floppy sleeves that keeps his fingertips warm. It's sweet Saturdays that he really wakes up, that he really slept because white wine usually accompanied him by the nightstand, set beside pairs of glasses rarely anyone saw him in.

But sweet Saturdays go sour, his hands cold and it's not the sheets that makes him feel small, but the knock of voices followed by a parade of ache that stomps. And like stomps, Luhan's left in white sheets and white shirts.

 There's a fistful of bed sheets in his grasp, his knuckles losing color around the bones. It's not too long til those knuckles tremble, his morning fares of another day and only a hangover and lips that taste like soju and bubble gum mint in its stead.

 And somewhere in between the choked splutters and the scratch marks on his arms, his head hangs over the toilet, retching out all the taste of mint and drinks of last night. Strands of hair sticks to his forehead, some swaying over his eyes. Throat burning with acid, he watches last night's dream flush away in discolored green and awful brown.

 He pulls on the lever more afterwards, the sound of sputtering water too much.

_ you kissed a man _

_  disgusting _

_  vile _

_  disgusti— _

_  Stop. _

 Luhan pushes back his hair, wincing as he falls backwards on cool tiles and towels, his headache not fading. 

_ disgusting _

_  abnormal _

_  you desERVE TO— _

_  I know. Stop. _

 His eyes sting, and tears fall around the red-rimmed skin and wetting his cheeks, because it's too much. His throat chokes out a raw cry, one that thrashes around his mouth and comes out in intervals.

 His cabinet faces him, staring down at the bones and flesh of a man—no, a boy, whose face is worth laughing at it, one whose hands are red in welts. There are too many prescriptions untouched behind those cabinets, and so he staggers to his feet, clinging onto gray walls and back to his bedroom.

 Luhan avoids his mirror, shaky fingers working down the white shirt, hesitating at the three last buttons. 

➳➳➳

   
"I knew you'd come today, too." Jongdae pulls out a box from under the table, pulling out stacks of napkins to restock. He barely looks up, hands fumbling with napkin blocks sealed in film. "You drank like a shit ton, more than Jongin." Luhan lingers a little bit at the door, part of his body inside and warm, the other feeling a little bit cold. It's one of his habits, to linger at the door so he can truly enjoy the gradual heat indoors. 

 Except today, he lingers because he's afraid.

 It's early, few bustling around in the kitchen, Jongdae the only one he could see in the dining hall. "Morning," Luhan says softly, his neck burning hot under his turtleneck, concealing bruises of love bites. His walks are slow; staggered. "Do you need help with that?" He points towards the two other boxes, but his arm felt numb and disconnected from his torso.

 "It's alright, but you can put a few of these napkins in the dispensers." Jongdae says, pulling out two more out of the box before tossing the emptied cardboard onto the ground. "Gave Jongin a day off again for being so drunk—I'm taking it out of his vacation hours." Jongdae grins, but it falters immediately when Luhan reaches out for the small package of napkins, hands trembling. "Hey...your palms....are red. That looks like it hurts." Jongdae doesn't hesitate to cradle Luhan's small hand in his calloused ones, but Luhan immediately pulls away, and recoils under his muddled look. 

 "I fell this morning, my palms got the hit." Luhan says quickly, clutching the napkins under his other hand. He's still looking at him, but Luhan grabs a few more and heading off to refill the metal containers. And if Jongdae wanted to say anything more, he doesn't, only going on about how cleaning up after was a bitch and Baekhyun was a messy eater. 

 And Luhan chuckles weakly at the right times, palms facing the surface of the table instead of him, so he's exposed to pale skin and streaks of green, instead of pale skin and streaks of white and red. Sunken eyes watches his own hands press napkins just as white as his skin—hands that resting at the crook of a man's neck, fingers that felt a boy's pulse against the pads of calloused fingertips.

 He will stay out of the restaurant bathroom for awhile. 

 "Thanks," Jongdae smiles, sweet eyes that darted back and forth between Luhan's disheveled hair and the hands that fidgeted under his own hold. He slides a cup of ginseng tea forward, watching the heat fumes from the colored drink. "You drank like hell, go rest down with Joonmyun in the break room." Jongdae snaps his fingers together, hurrying off to the kitchen with his apron barely tied on.

 He frowns, but peers into the break room with a steaming hot cup, of course, to see Joonmyun sprawled across the couch, breathing short huffs against the arm that draped over his eyes. Luhan grins, hurrying in and setting the cup against the messy table, Joonmyun bolting up, blinking sleepy eyes and wincing. "Luhan-hyung," he shoots a smile, before pressing a palm to his forehead, eyes shut. "You need his hangover soup too?" He rubs at his arms, blinking a couple times to wake his eyes. "I drank a lot."

 "Yeah." Luhan says. Joonmyun scoots over, draping the little blanket over Luhan's lap as he settles down. "You should've stopped me." Luhan cracks the shortest of smiles, dropping it immediately. 

_ Should of stopped me, should of should of should of should of. _

 "We did," Joonmyun reminds him, nudging him against the arm that bares stars and blooms of reds under black fabric. "Sehun even tried to take away your drinks, pry them out of your hands." Sehun. "What's with all the layers? It's not as cold today." Joonmyun pats his knee, making sure the thin fabric stretched over him like a canvas. Luhan wants nothing more than to shrink away from his touch—he doesn't want anyone to touch him. 

 "I don't want to get sick anymore." Luhan lies, fiddling with the frayed corners of the blanket. "If I do, Dr. Ryeowook might just use that against me and add another prescription to the haul." The break room sets to silence, Joonmyun swallowing before downing his glass of water. He can't help but feel guilty, but that guilt is part of a mixing bowl of sidewalk cracks and flower shops with subtle touches. 

 Jongdae pushes open the door with the flat of his sneaker, two bowls of haejangguk being balanced on a tray. "Chase those hangovers away," he says in a sing-song voice, setting down the two bowls carefully in front of his two friends. "Luhan, drink your ginseng or I'll kick you out." His threat is light as always, nudging the cup towards Luhan, who eyes it like medicine. "It'll restore your energy, even Joonmyun drank it earlier."

 "Joonmyun likes drinking it." Luhan watches the red tea sit. The weight of last night lightens, but leaves sores that he knows will take days to disappear. Joonmyun talks to Jongdae about something, his new writing for a small shot of a paper. Luhan doesn't feel like chatting, hands cupped around the glass and tilting it just enough to sip the bitterness.

➳➳➳

"You're quiet today." Joonmyun sets his spoon down against the bowl rim, offering Luhan a look that's full of concern and friendliness. "What's on your mind?"

_ his hands on your hips _

_  his lips on your lips _

_  your hand in his hair— _

_  shut up leave LEAVE ME _

 "Nothing," he croaks out in respond, before clearing his throat, embarrassed. "I'm just tired." Luhan scratches at his wrist, leaving white, chalky streaks on his skin surface. Luhan leans back into the seat, completely layered in sheets as his eyes drew heavy lids. "Must've not slept well last night."

 "You were out of it when Sehun drove you home, though." Joonmyun unscrewed the plastic cap on the water bottle, it being already half-empty. "You were muttering in Chinese the entire time, you were a zombie." Luhan laughs weakly, hands under the disguise of blankets, digging into the lines on his palms. 

 "Sehun drove me home?" Luhan blanches, but he was facing the TV, Joonmyun not looking at him as he downed his water. 

 "Yeah, Tao said he took a taxi home." 

 "And Hyunjae?" Luhan's voice drops to a whisper, though it wasn't much of a change.

 The body next to him freezes. "Hyunjae?"

 "Who drove her home?" There's a flicker of something that leaps across Joonmyun's soft features, before regaining composure. 

 "She got home alright."

➳➳➳

 

 Luhan had left his phone at home on purpose. The only thing on him when he left were the layers of clothes and his wallet. There was also a paper bag with the white shirt, washed and folded. The walk back to his car wasn't far, he parked it down the street instead of upfront of the restaurant. It gives him time to retrace his thoughts. 

 Joonmyun asked if he wanted to hang around Kris' bookshop today, Myeongdong especially seeming suburb in the wee mornings where the flips of pages sounds best against the few shouts of people who were hopping onto the bus stop. Luhan would've liked that, but declining, he's walking alone to his car, hands fisted in his pockets and tousled hair that has no business with him. 

 He stands in front of his car, keys dangling between dainty fingers as he hesitates. Going back to his apartment meant staying there alone, and being alone hurts him.

  _you're never alone_

_  Get out of my head. _

 The twist of heels and a few steps that turns into quick jogging, he slips inside a phone booth, coins that were clattering against each other in his pocket now pulled out. 

  _what are yOU DOING_

_  Get out, stop. _

 Fingers dialing familiar numbers, his breath white and his head pounding with nausea. "I'll fix this," he whispers to himself, trying to divert his attention from the ringing in the phone. It takes only a few rings when there's the the rustling of sounds and sleep-induced voices. Voices, being Sehun. I'll fix this.

 "Hello?"

 "I need to see you." Luhan's voice cracks, everything he has been holding in since entering the restaurant shatters in a whole mind of screaming and Debbie Downers. "I...need to meet you quickly. Have to talk about. Something." His voice is being chipped away with urgency.

 "Hyung?" Sehun's voice now more alert, and his voice...is so sweet. And Luhan wants to hang out and thrash around in tears and muddled thoughts. "Hyung...hyung, I..."

 "Just meet me at the coffee shop near your workplace." Luhan's voice drops, but at the ends, it's still frayed and loose strings of suppressed tears and thoughts. "In half an hour. It's important."  _Let me fucking fix my sins._

 "Are you alright, hyung?" Sehun's voice is slow, deliberate. 

 "I will be soon." 

 He hangs up immediately, before he could say anything that would be torn from his flesh of man and bones, because there's a lot of things he wants to say. All the things that will end him as a sinner with a lot of thoughts.

 Though he told Sehun in half an hour, he's sitting in the coffee shop with fidgeting limbs and three mugs of coffee in front of him. Two are emptied and one is nearly there. The ahjumma watching him through wrinkled rimmed eyes, frowning. "Luhannie, you've drank too much coffee already, let's stop at three. Caffeine isn't very good for you."

 He only nods, staring straight ahead of the door, where the _'CLOSED'_ sign faces him in bold white and red. His eyes lose focus just staring at pasting car blurs, until the door rings with the bell and there's a figure of lean shoulders and soft hair. The coffee shop is otherwise empty, aside from Sehun who stands at the door alone, and Luhan sitting in the back, shoulders hunched and throat dry.

 "Is he the one that likes sweet coffee?" The ahjumma looks over at Luhan and smiles, who stiffly nods. "I'll be right back with your drink." They're alone now. Sehun watches the short old woman disappear into the back, and turns his attention back to Luhan, who looks away.

 "Hi, hyung."

 "Hi."

 Staring at the table, Sehun pulls out the chair in front of him, squeaking and settling down. In the corner of his eyes, he thinks Sehun looks, a whole lot older; with no hats or silly tees. Instead, his hair is untouched, his face free of cream and a soft sweater. He looks older. Something burns against Luhan's throat. "Here." He lifts up the paper bag and setting it on the table, Sehun eyeing it curiously. "Your...shirt, washed and clean." 

_ clean frOM YOUR SINS his sins all of your sins _

_  he'll ruin you _

 Sehun doesn't go to look at it, or take it. It sits in between them, as a reminder. "Hyung...you wanted to talk. Is it about...?"

 "我抱歉。我现在说谎." Luhan says quietly with one final smile. He won't be smiling anymore, not today. Not with him.

 "Huh?"

 "Forget about last night."

 The younger one's eyes widens, a crease in his perfect skin. "Last night..." 

 "Just forget it." And for the first time in six years, he voices his inner ones out, loud and trembling. "What happened was obviously a mistake, and it couldn't have been more of a regret." The last few syllables ends in a choked whisper.

 "A mistake." Sehun's voice clinks like metal. "A regret?" His sweet voice shatters;there's only disbelief and rusty metals now. 

 "Among other things." Luhan grips at his knees to keep them from clawing his own red streaks. "Appalled. Disgusted. _I regret both my actions and yours._ " He focuses on his empty coffee cup, the vision blurring then focusing, he won't let them fall. "It's best if we both feel this way, we can ignore it."  
   
 Despite voice of rust and cracks, Sehun's voice is throaty and in intervals. "I don't feel that way. I even liked...liked you. And I thought..." Luhan looks up, watching his sharp features twitching between the brows and crestfallen eyes. "Fuck, you...you can't...do..."

 Luhan feels so dead inside. "I overstep my boundaries. I shouldn't have lead you on." His voice is longer of a crying man, but a monotonous boy. "It was wrong of me."

 "Being gay isn't _wrong_." Sehun shoots up from his seat, and Luhan notices the ahjumma not back with coffee. It's best that way. "How could you be...be _disgusted_ with my sexuality?" Sehun's voice is jarred with sharp edges that pricks both of them. Luhan shuts his eyes, letting the red and purple lights dart back and forth in the darkness of his eyelids. 

 "I'm disgusted with you. With my actions." Luhan forces out, and he's glad he's sitting in a chair, he can feel his knees weak and giving out. "I was drunk last night, so were you."

 "You don't mean that." Sehun takes two stagger steps to Luhan's side. Tentative voice that cracks and a trembling hand outreached. Luhan recoils, and his hand falls limply to his side. "You...you said you wouldn't want to hurt...hurt me. You're hurting me like hell right now. It fucking hurts like shit, I feel like shit." Sehun bites out, his shoulders shaking. "I thought you were—"

 "What? Gay?" Luhan snaps. "Don't put me with your category." _It fucking hurts_ , Luhan thinks, shouting at Sehun. It hurts even more to lie.

 "You..."

I'm fixing my sins. "Did you think I'd actually like you?" He whispers, staring outside at bustling Seoul with glossy eyes. "That I'd like a man?"

 "You...you _kissed_ me."

 "I did. I apologize." Luhan's eyes slides over to Sehun lazily, whose eyes are dilated with bright with tears, a twitching mouth and shaky hands. "I'm normal though. I'm not trying to put a dent in our friendship, it's just that if I want to solve a problem," he turns his head away, staring at the counter in the front. "I need to realize that there is a problem."

 "My sexuality isn't a fucking problem!" Sehun nearly shouts, voice dipped in anger and topped off with an incredulous tone, and hurt.  _Mostly hurt._  “You...you took care of me, slept in the same room...we kissed. I kissed you.”

_ good luhan _

_  good pretty boy _

_  save yourself _

 A moment of silence that was agonizingly long, Sehun's entire upper body gives up, slumping in frustration. "To think...it'd change." Sehun laughs humorlessly, and Luhan shivers. "Fuck. You're just...just like them all." Luhan winces, and pushes his chair out, Sehun backing away. Luhan drapes his coat over his shoulders and arms, and finally, he finally looks straight into Sehun's eyes. 

 "Things are all cleared up now." Luhan nods towards the younger, who looks so lost with shaking shoulders that Luhan wants to hold and tell him  _I'm sorry, I'm sorry._  But he doesn't, because he can't.

 And his steps are slow, knees threatening to give way and have him collapse inside the coffee shop. Luhan finally starts to breathe, there's a choked sob that makes him want to run back and apologize.

"Why did you think I left Daegu?"

 "I don't care." Luhan replies with a wobbly voice, and it hits him hard, both of them. The door jingles again, with only one of them leaving. Luhan doesn't look back, because he doesn't want to see the sweet freckles that looks like they're crying.

➳➳➳

나는 유감스럽다. 나는 지금 속이기 위하여 려고 하고 있다.

我抱歉。我现在说谎。

__

(I'm sorry. I'm going to lie now.)

➳➳➳

_2 AM._  It's 2 AM; it's early. It's late. The food Hyunjae makes were picked at, and he's still in the same clothes as of Saturday. He's waiting until the bloomed flowers on his neck wilts. And he had cried, of course, he did, on the drive back home and choked splutters on the stairs up. His neighbors who were in the lobby had watched him with concerned eyes, but that was it.

 He doesn't cry when he's back in his room, though. Just curled up in space on the bed that seems too big for just one person.

➳➳➳

   
Luhan doesn't show up at their Saturday hangout, or anything on Sunday. Kyungsoo had called, asking if he was sick. Hyunjae's quiet about things, but lets herself into his apartment to water the flowers that are still alive, and setting out a meal for him before leaving. And Sehun, Sehun's nowhere near him. 

That's exactly what he wanted.

_But why does it feel so wrong?_

Luhan spent nearly half of his Sunday in sweet wine breaths and lathering BB cream over his scratch marks, the ones that were too raw and red. Sunday morning includes slumped against the corner of his couch, letting his own words graze his own skin like sandpaper against a child's flesh. Sunday afternoon consists of an empty wine bottle, but no matter how much he drinks, it's not enough to make him woozy. The afternoon also has glimpses of channel surfing and heavy fingers that presses the keyboard on his phone, the few repeatings of  _"Yeah, I'm fine" and "Just at home"._

 Messy concealed marks of jagged smiles that tattoos his arms falls off with the hours, and with the clock ticking into late afternoon, Luhan finds himself in sneakers and agonizing staggers down the stairs that leads to the lobby. 

 And it's 6 in the evening when he finds himself in Myeongdong, tired legs that's walking to the bookshop. "Oh—Luhan?" Kris looks up through black rimmed glasses from a lengthy book in English, Beowu-something. Tucking in one of the corners of the paper as a bookmark, he sets both his glasses and reading down, full grin of straight teeth and smile creases. "Heard you were sick, that's why you couldn't make it last night?"

 "Uh huh." Luhan sits down and looks around, a few mothers glancing around in the romance section, say for one teenage boy flipping through a fantasy book. "Sorry about that. What bar was it this time?"

 Kris shakes his head. "Not a bar, at a blood sausage place." He bends down to grab a paper cup, filling it with sloshing water before handing it to Luhan. "Sehun didn't show up either, you guys hung out?"

 "No...I, I was sick." Luhan downs his water quickly. "It was just a bit chilly yesterday, you know?” His mind ignored the flashing red warning lights, lights that warned him not to adventure into yesterday and Friday's thoughts. He counts the steps of Saturday, from harsh sobs into the wheel of his car to yelling and offensive remarks in the coffee shop. 

 Maybe that's where their friendship ended.

 Maybe that's where Sehun left.

 And Luhan wonders what Sehun did after—if he drank like he did, or slept it off. Or if the anger was a spur of the moment, and he's over it, or if the anger he harbors towards Luhan is real enough, real enough to cut his bones.

 "You should've worn a jacket today then," Kris scoffs, raising an eyebrow at Luhan's thin tee and jeans from yesterday. 

 "Yeah."

 "So did you need a book?" Kris looks up at the shelf harboring his new arrivals from the States for those avid readers, including some from Singapore and Japan. "Thought you didn't have time to read lately."

 "Do you remember Minseok?"

  It starts.

 "Minseok?"

 Luhan coughs slightly, hurting his raw throat. "Minseok, yeah. From...high school." His palms are rubbing soothing circles against his knees, creating friction between him and the denim.

 "Of course I do." Kris grins at the faint memories of high school. "You two were joint at the hip, kind of like you and Sehun right now."

 "No, not at all." Luhan crushed the paper cup that was sitting in his lap, crumpling up into a wad of thick paper. "Minseok's mellow and calm...Sehun's...Sehun's _not_." Minseok was collected, soothing and all smiles and cute cheeks that made him look younger. Luhan's last memory of Minseok, though, was not of the sweet, patient Minseok, but of anger and shouts, of irrational words that sounded like Saturday. "Sehun's a kid."

 Kris blinks, lower lip tugging down in a subtle frown. "Did...something happen between you and Sehunnie? Didn't talk much at the dance, yelled at him at Jongdae's...but you left in good nature and, did you...two fight?"

 Luhan's eyes takes a long time to shut. "No, we didn't fight." Kris offers a plate of miniature muffins and Luhan takes one, though his appetite is far and gone. "Thanks."

 "No problem." Kris finishes one in one bite. "Minseok, wow. Can't believe he's finally coming back soon, next month, right?" Luhan nods slowly, the sweet muffin now tasting bitter and of sand in his mouth, and he hopes he won't throw up again. Kris munches on another one, a few crumbs and his lower lip stained of blue berry as he smiles. 

 "How long?" Luhan asks quietly, staring at the wad up paper cup and pasty white white knuckles of his. 

 Kris shrugs. "Yixing said something about a few months. Great, right? We can do all that shit we did in high school, with a few new additions." He turns away from Luhan momentarily, to a young woman with books to buy. And because Kris' attention is away from Luhan's face, he pulls down his sleeve further and wipes away a runaway tear before he could see.  
 

➳➳➳

 Monday.

 Luhan bolts upright, shirt sticking to him with sweat, and eyes blinking furiously away dried vision. A raw ache of a familiar voice rings out in the dark; the sun hasn't risen yet. His hand goes up to clutch a fistful of his shirt, the other going out for his phone. 4:03 AM. Bleary-eyed, he winces when the light hits his eyes, as he clicks to check nonexistent messages. And unconsciously, he presses on Sehun's contact and stares at the messages, stale from last Friday with a cute Japanese emoticon. But there was nothing else. 

 Desperate, just wanting to read something—something to distract him from his thoughts—he clicks on the emails, the (2) from his father, sent nearly two months ago, untouched, unread.

回来在家。韦将带来您。

Come back home, Wei will bring you.

韩国不是为象我们的人，回来到中国，不是建议。

Korea is not for men like us. Come back home, that is not a suggestion.

Wei. A flowery boy with so much love for people. Wei-ge, Luhan would shout out in a four-year old's voice at the end of the playground slide. Sun Wei, the taller boy who brought over cars and toys, who Luhan ran to with pitter-patter feet as a toddler. Loving Wei, who held Luhan's hand when the bullying was too much. Rosy, beautiful Wei, who saw Luhan kiss a boy at the back of the school. 

_ remember me _

_  rememBER _

 Luhan grips his phone, his eyes blurred and the Chinese words are nothing but an unstable line of black pixel.

 It's when the sun starts to peek over the blinds that he removes himself from his bed, heavy chest that breathes out choked air. His hand glides over the polished wood of his desk, stopping just at the shiny photos of him and Sehun. Photo frames. He wonders, if he can ever hang them up, after what he has done.

 It's brighter outside now, nosier. But the tie is a bit too tight and Luhan's clammy hands are struggling with the coffeepot. He barely sets down the badly made cup on the counter before pulling out his phone. Pressing down on Hyunjae's contact, he shuts his eye in a silent apology. 

_ sHE'S NOT YOURS ANYMORE _

_  CARETAKER _

 "Hello?"

 "Hyunjae." Luhan ignores the voices again, letting his waist lean against the sharp corner of his counter. "I...I..."

 "Luhan," her voice blooms of concern, sounding more awake. "Luhan, what happened? Did you—"

 "My emails." He rasps, leaning back so it digs into his skin, it'll leave a small mark. "I read them."

 "Your father?" 

 "Yes," he casts his eyes at his feet, remembering the words. Come back home, come back home. "He mentioned Wei. Sun Wei." 

 That terrible name that seemed to find itself a label on every aspect of his life, every awful one. Embed in the the darkness of his bedroom, where Luhan stays up counting the hours instead of sheep. Burned into his arms where the tips of fingernails liked to chip away that label. Signed in between the letters of his signatures for his medical bills. The name that hid in his suitcase as he boarded the plane 9—nearly 10—years ago.

 There is silence on the other end, and Luhan waits. "My cousin...maybe we can move it to this week instead. I can ask him." There's the sound of rustling paper on her end, followed by the close of a book. "Do you want that?"

 "Let's not this week." Luhan whispers, and he feels stuffy in his dress shirt, with his wristwatch digging into his wrist bone. "I don't feel that good this week, my appointment is next Wednesday, anyways." 

 "Are you sure you can wait until then?" Hyunjae sighs, worry woven into her gentle voice. "Sun Wei...he isn't very good for your health...and with everything you may...may..."

 "Relapse?"   
 

➳➳➳

   
Kyungsoo's nose is in his phone, quick fingers dashing across his keyboard. "Oh, Luhan." He blinks, and checks the time on his phone. "You're early."

"I am." Luhan slides open the fourth file cabinet, stuffing an overloaded manila folder, one of eggshell color. "I beat you today." Kyungsoo pulls out the chair and sits next to Luhan, sighing heavily looks expectantly at him.

 "No bubble tea?"

Luhan's eyes flickers, before shaking his head. "Too cold." Kyungsoo drops a notepad inked with scribbles of phone numbers and emails. "What's this?"

 "I'm attending a photo shoot for one of our models for the spring photographs later, but Changmin also sent me these last week to contact—just fucking got them today, though." He groans, throwing his head back in exasperation. "Will you please handle them for me? Please? I'll handle yours tomorrow." Luhan nods slowly, taking a closer look at the messy handwriting. 

 "What about Minho?" Luhan tapes the ripped-off note sheet onto his monitor. 

 Kyungsoo shakes his head. "He's attending as well, so no." 

 It's a half an hour of quick work and snips of chat before Chanyeol comes parading in with a hot pink tie and a doughnut in his hand. Luhan barely looks up from his papers before the giant smashes him, Kyungsoo, and Luhan into a tight squeeze, grinning a bare smile. Kyungsoo ducks from under his choke hold, glaring murderously at him. "Fuck off, you dick wiggle."

 Startling a laugh out of Chanyeol, he tosses his bag and coat onto his chair before giving a show of jazz hands. "I'm happy, Kyungsoo, let me be!"

 Luhan smiles softly, before it drops. "Why are you so happy? It's an early Monday."

 He shrugs. "I ran into Yixing and Baekhyun today. Baekhyun says he's doing really well on his webtoon and stuff."

Chanyeol's excitement drops a few letters when he sits down and actually see the work in front of him, but his humming and tapping doesn't take to a cease. It's an hour into work and cracking knuckles before Luhan stands up, asking his friends if they need any refreshments. He leaves their office with the mental note of coffee and juice, jogging down the stairs to the main break room, where Seulgi and Shindong are chatting over a paper cup of coffee and a plate of sweets. 

 He bows towards his sunbae and nods at Seulgi, before grabbing three paper cups and disappeared off to the refreshment table. Too busy in pouring in heaps of french vanilla into Kyungsoo's coffee, he doesn't notice Seulgi appear next to him, tossing in the trash her cup before smiling. "Luhan-ssi." 

 "Hi, Seulgi." Seulgi is a lot different from Hyunjae or Jinri, he thinks. Jinri has an aura that shouts Incheon, followed by a whisper of Busan. And Hyunjae, so mellow and subtle that it's not hard to mistake her a Jeju's resident. But Seulgi doesn't have anything of her that's anchored to some certain place, of some certain city culture. 

 Seulgi reminds him of Sehun.

 "Will you attend the Christmas party for VERILLI this year?" She blinks at him, and her eyes looks drawn-on rather than popping out—much contributing to her features.

 "That's not until, well, Christmas." Luhan fills up Kyungsoo's coffee and his, and reaching out for the lemonade pitcher. Seulgi wraps her hand around the handle of the pitcher right after he sets it down, Chanyeol's drink sloshing around in the paper cup. 

 "Well, won't you?" Seulgi pours herself one, only halfway before putting it back in the fridge, turning towards him with perfect manicured nails and skin that looks nearly plastic; flawless. "Luhan-ssi, it will be a good thing for you to socialize more, even if it's business-oriented for a party."

 Luhan looks up, and there's no one except them in the break room, Shindong already gone with a plate of sweet and coffee just as sugary. "I appreciate the concern, but I am very well on the socializing, Seulgi." He has never really talked much to Seulgi, the few times she delivered something for him, the more often thing of her taking a quick analysis when she thinks he's not looking.

 "Socializing with only a few coworkers that are your friends in the first place isn't really...socializing." Her voice was frayed at the ends, much, much like Sehun's voice, only his was masculine and well, he's a boy. "Hanging out with the same friends you had for so long isn't socializing, either. It's hiding."

 Luhan, taken back, takes a few seconds to swallow her words and process them in a slow, heavy grinding of wheels and gears. "Seulgi, we aren't acquainted well enough to...to make judgments like that." He shakes his head, deliberately slow. Her coral lip tint seems to gloss with a roll out of her bottom lip, and there are hard lines around her lips.

 She blinks slow, too, just as slow as he had nodded. Her eyes seems to be drawn on—much contributing to her features. "It's because we're not acquainted enough that I can do that." She looks away, her brows furrowing. "You reminded me of my friend, when I started as an intern. A lot of secrets."

 Luhan's quiet, before breaking it with a sip of his own steaming hot coffee and a sigh. "Humans are entitled to their secrets."

 "Only the insane and the unstable are."

 "I should get back to work, Seulgi." Luhan smiles softly, but it's shaky; her words sending a shiver down his spine and gripping his bones until he feel like they'll break.

 Seulgi sets her cup down. "Wait." She pulls her hands together in woven, dainty fingers. "My friend, she had a lot of secrets. It was hard to tell, unless you were a stranger to her and your thought of her wasn't filtered...by her past." And Seulgi, who he barely talks to unless for running errands for him or the polite exchanges in the break room or meeting room out of a sunbae and hoobae manner, is shooting words of daggers and bemusement to his flesh. 

 Luhan's coffee isn't as hot now. She looks at him through hooded eyes, before lips parting in continuation. "And, well, you're that person, and I'm that stranger. And secrets, it's not my place, Luhan-ssi, but I feel like I have to. Have to protect a stranger that resembles an uncanny feeling like my friend."

 And the weak wall that he had built up this morning, it was inevitable that it would fall. And it's crumbling now. "What feeling is that?" He says in a low, inaudible voice, despite only the two of them in the break room. And it's because there's only two that both their voices sound so loud.

 "Sadness." She blinks, and turns her head upward, her blinks of half-moons more rapid and urgent. "Desperate."

_ SehUN tHAT BOY. _

_  yOU DON'T UNDERSTAND  
   
 how disgusting vile, inhuman you are _

_  Leave me alone. _

 Because of broken walls and paper cups, he looks at Seulgi wearily, wanting to cry and scream and curl up into a fetal position, all at the same time. "Is it really that?" She doesn't say anything, just looking at Luhan with those sad drawn on eyes. And there's something that peels off a layer between them, because Seulgi seems to do that, though she was a recent addition to the team after an internship. "Is that why you always looked at me? Because I'm desperately sad?"

 "Yes." She offers a cracked smile that flawed her plastic skin. "You didn't think it was because I was attracted to you right?" It was an attempted joke, but her voice is so heavy with the weight that it just sinks in the air. 

 Luhan checks the time on his watch, before offering Seulgi a real smile this time—even if it was tinged with desperate sadness. "It's back to work for me." He says, holding his drinks in the carton holder, and he hopes Kyungsoo doesn't mind cold coffee. "I hope your friend is happier."

 Her face falls again, and she tilts her head back, a few strands of her tied up hair falls back in loose, unloved locks. "My friend is gone." Her eyes are back to her rapid blinking, and those drawn-on eyes are are more animated with a glaze over them. "But yeah, I bet she is."

 Luhan leaves the break room with a heavy heart and a heavier pain for headaches, and he doesn't pay attention to Kyungsoo's groans of cold coffee and Chanyeol's sloppy slurps of lemonade as the humming takes over his head, and it's a beehive full of Sun Wei and Sehun.

➳➳➳

Tuesday.

 Luhan doesn't cope well at night, his dinners are of different kinds of wine. A lot of things are replaced, actually; his mornings with two cups of coffee instead of one, his lunch of manila folders and tiny fonts, and his bed sheets changed. There's a lot of times where he wants to grab his phone and call Sehun, and in spluttering apologies, would they talk. Except there are no chances, because his phone is dead and he won't charge it. 

 It's just wine, he thinks, wine on an empty stomach. 

 His home phone rings, and it's Jongdae. A stain of wine on his lips that parts out like the red sea. "Jongdae, hi." Luhan raises his brows in an attempt to keep his eyes awake. "Jongdae! hi!"

 Jongdae scoffs on the other end. "Are you drinking again? Is it for sleep?"

 "Sure," Luhan replies lazily, rubbing at his eye that stings afterwards. "It's for sleep." He hiccups, and Jongdae chuckles. "Talk to me, Jongie."

 "I'm talking to you right now."

 Luhan shakes his head, even though his best friend can't see. "No, talk a lot. About anything." He chews on his bottom lip, turning the wine glass around until he gets a pang of that lightheaded feel, and there's small drops of dark red on the table. "I don't like hearing his voice. There's two!" his own voice bubbles with giddiness that overrides his strain. 

 "Voices?"

 "Just talk, Jongdae-ah. I want you to talk."

 

 

➳➳➳

 It's Tuesday morning and tie wrestling when there's a phone call. A small part of him lights up and he jumps, because that part hopes for Sehun. And it dies, when he squints heavy eyes at the unknown caller ID. "Hello?"

 "Hi, hi." A familiar voice that Luhan can't put a finger on rings out. "Hi, hi, hyung."

 "Who is this?"

 "Ten."

 "Ah." Luhan readjusts his phone so it fits comfortably around his ear. "How did you get my number, Ten?" He slips on his shoes, back facing his emptied cup of coffee on the side table. "Good morning by the way." 

 "Meh." Ten's voice is laid-back, and there's a lot of noise in the background. "Took Sehun's phone, found your contact and called you." Luhan's stomach clenches, and it's maybe the lack of food or the lack of Sehun. "Is it too early?"

 "No." Luhan looks at his clock on the wall and he's still early; the wine from the night didn't help in sleep at all. "It's not early, for me." His scarf and coat is spread out against his couch, along with a lot of papers and pillows. It's definitely cold outside, winter fast on the city's heels. "What's up, Ten-ah?"

 "I think I should probably meet you." Ten's voice is louder now, the noise lessen. "Is right now okay? I don't know when you go to work or stuff, but like, I should probably see you even just for a second. We can meet at like a breakfast shop or something, it doesn't have to be my workplace." 

 "It's alright, I can meet you now." Luhan replies, before swallowing a hefty breath and reaching out for his coat and scarf. "What's it about?"

 "My concerns." Ten says without hesitation, his accent drawling and short. "Let's meet. At...at that shop between the shoe polisher and the electronic repair place. I forget the name. But that." Ten adds that it's a blue shop with hippy flowers and peace signs over it, before Luhan realizes it's a small morning dinner, that runs from the starts of the morning and closes mid-afternoon.

 A million things races through his mind of what Ten would talk about, though there's a sinking feeling that he already knows—inevitable, undeniably, inescapable. Head frazzled, he doesn't wrap his scarf correctly and leaves it hanging across his shoulders, keys jamming into the lock of his car. Ten waits at the blue shop with hippy flowers and peace signs.

 Ten stands out in the shop, his hair pulled back with a bright green hat, and an oversize shirt that says, _'DOPE SHIT'._ Looking bored, he's sipping on a straw before his eyes catches Luhan, who approaches him while tearing the scarf off himself along with the coat. "Hi, hi, hyung." He repeats, offering a boyish grin before scooting a little bit in so there's room for him.

 "Hi, Ten," Luhan greets, sitting down on the pink plastic seats, suddenly feeling out of place. Fuck, of course he's out of place. "What's up, no shift today?"

 He shakes his head, followed by an obnoxious slurp. "Nah. Got class at 9 today, some dumb lecture." Luhan shakes his head with a smile, because Ten sounds a lot like college Chanyeol, or everyday Baekhyun. "Hope not taking you away important. You don't have work yet though, do you always get ready that early?" Luhan nods, and Ten scoffs. "Guess Sehun was right."

_Sehun._

 "Why did you want to meet me?" Luhan clears his throat with a fist to his lips in a polite manner. "Important, right?"

 Ten halfheartedly shrugs, lower lip sticking out as he blows out air. "I'd say it would be out of just a friendly chat, but yeah, kind of important. To me, and I bet it's super important to you."  Ten pats an awkward hand on Luhan's shoulder, his wrist decorated in a lot of scribbled notes in Thai. "I, well, fuck. I sort of planned out what I'd say you know, to sound serious. Because it's serious. But now it looks and sounds dumb." He blinks at the smudged sharpie on his arm, before letting it fall limply.

 "What?" Luhan's voice cracks unintentionally. 

 "Did you and hyung—I mean, Sehun, did you and Sehun get into an argument?" Luhan expected it, but his throat seems to be of dust and he doesn't say anything. "Or, did you say anything to him, did he say anything to you?"

 Luhan leans back on the uncomfortable seat, and his fingers brushing circles around his own skin. "Does it really look like we did? That obvious?" His lips are chapped as he bites down.

 "Sort of." Ten's voice is quieter now, like he's talking of secrets that would kill him if spilled. "Sehun barely talks to us, except for calling out orders and stuff. You don't stop by the shop anymore and you look as if you haven't eaten—wait, have you  _actually fucking eaten?_ " Ten looks alarmed, eyes darting up and down Luhan.

 "Sehun? He's...is he not well?" Luhan asks immediately, sitting up straighter and his voice still dusty. He disregards his last question, and Ten looks at him incredulously, knitted brows and wide eyes.  _Sehun. Sehun sehun sehUn sEhun. Sehun._  
   
 "He's not like, sick Luhan. Just down. Like really down." He rubs the nape of his neck awkwardly. "Sad. Depressing. Distant. All that fun stuff." His eyes flickered towards Luhan's dark circles and transparent skin, hard lines forming around his lips as he frowns. "You look like you have the 3 combo, as well."

 Luhan pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs heavily. It's been five days since then. Five days of small food bites and too many drinks, it's a lot of hours that he doesn't sleep. There's too many minutes in five days, where every other is of Sehun or Sun Wei. The other minutes are occupied by his Sun Wei again, but his voices instead. "I don't want to talk about it."

 "Ok. Then let me guess." Ten shifts his body so he's facing Luhan, eyes full of determine and urgency. "Let me guess, hyung." There's something that strikes against his features, that something that screams  _'Please, let me._ ' "As Sehun-hyung's friend and you as his close as fuck friend, let me."

 "Guess...guess." Luhan echoes weakly. "You want to..."

 "Yes." Luhan doesn't answer, just sits there in his tie and jacket in his lap, his palms tingly and sweaty. Ten seems to take this silence as yes, so he continues. "Sehun. He moved from Daegu, abruptly, right? College switching and everything, wasn't a very clean change, either." Ten looks uncomfortably talking about this, but Luhan can see the younger one pushing himself to go on.

 "You know, he doesn't hide it, but doesn't go revealing and stuff, he really doesn't." Ten continues, except now it's in Chinese, because it's secretive. Luhan's chest hurts with constriction, his lungs feeling choked under his hollow rib cages. "Not a secret, but it's secretive."  _Secrets._ There's a lot, Luhan thinks, that involves Sehun. It's a  _shh shh,_ a secret that he taste of soju and mint. It's definitely a secret that he smells of pine, especially strong and earthy near his neck. And it's always a kept secret that he fits perfectly in Sehun's arms. He won't tell that there were once roses on his neck.

 "Doesn't hide what?" Luhan asks, though he knows. He winces when he hears how small he sounds, and it doesn't go unnoticed by Ten.

 "Don't play the fool right now," Ten sighs, sounding exasperated. "His...his sexuality. That's what I meant. You know.  _I know_  this is what this shit is about, hyung."

 "You knew?" It comes out as a whisper.

 "Jaehyun and I knew since he got here, he told us." Ten rubs at his cheek tiredly, wiping away non-existent dirt. "I guess he didn't have anything to lose at the time, we were just coworkers before becoming friends. So, he just told us." He pulls off his hat so his matted hair sticks out, frowning as he fiddles with the rim of his hat. "It's different with you." 

 Different.

 "Different?" Luhan echoes, although it's more a rusty sound, like a wind-up toy whose metal wheel is plagued. 

  The _'DOPE SHIT'_ tee sags as Ten slumps, his hands not knowing what to do and just sitting limply "Liked you. He really cared about you."

_ yOU'RE DIFFERENT _

_  QUEER LUHAN _

_  Get out, Sun Wei. _

   
 "Why are you all bringing this up now?" Luhan asks, though there's no venom in his voice, no real ones. He was fine drinking wine at night until there's a dark stain on his lips and a darker one on his shirt. He was completely ok with counting the streetlights outside because there's no stars to count. Luhan was utterly, fucking fine. He was fine dying.

_ dying. _

_  go. _

 "You found out didn't you?" Ten looks expectantly at Luhan, his eyes glinted with a nervousness that's found in friends. "And something happen, and you guys won't talk." Luhan looks away from him, opting to stare at the ground instead. He wishes he can cancel work today. He wishes he can cancel everything today. "And I don't know exactly why, but the world is changing and Sehun is really—"

 "Stop." Luhan says in a low voice, his eyes fluttering shut. "That's enough, please."

 "Hyung."

 "Ten," Luhan rubs his face with the warmth of palm, before letting out a tittery breath. "I just really can't talk about this right now. It's early." He stands up, Ten looking up at him with sad eyes that seems to understand as well. "Attend your lectures, okay? Even if they're boring, and, and make sure you wear something more than just a tee-shirt right now, it's nearly winter." He wastes no time tightening his scarf around his neck messily, just enough so it covers his lower face and muffles his words.

 Ten murmurs something that sounds like an okay, and they're both out the door against Seoul air before there's a soul that speaks. "Don't break his heart? No matter who you love." Ten walks ahead of Luhan, not looking back with his hands fisted in his pocket and his hair sticking out of his hat. "Just don't break Sehunnie."

➳➳➳

 

 Wednesday.

 Luhan's heart is less heavy, the weight rolled off his chest but landed at his feet. But the morning glories on his arms fades to an icky yellow, the little scratches less red and more so healing. He's completely sorry—to Hyunjae and Sehun, to himself and Ten. To Hyunjae because he's back to 22 and thin arms that sported long sleeves to avoid questions, to Sehun because he ripped apart that sweet boy. To Ten, because he was sorry for hurting his sweet friend. To himself, because it was a sweet boy that he had hurt. 

 At least, it's Wednesday instead of Saturday, because it has been five days since that long day, six since its cause. He's not chewing almonds for meals anymore, finally eating a full breakfast and tagging along with Kyungsoo and Chanyeol for lunch, because him being lightheaded had only brought nausea and lack of work to himself.

 It feels like it's back to normal, Luhan back in the seat near the window at the sweet old woman's coffee shop, lips tinted with bitter coffee and the few flakes of croissants that refused to go. 

 Kicking off his shoes that knocks against his other ones, Luhan barely gets on one slipper before collapsing onto the couch, exhausted and sleepy eyes that are dry as well. His phone vibrates in his back pocket, the ringer slightly muffled. Luhan groans, he can't even get a fucking break from the day. "Hello?"

 "Hi. Let's eat dinner together," it's Kyungsoo, and there's the sounding of sizzling and chopsticks in the background as he speaks. "I'm going to make too much."

 Luhan rubs at his eyes, his back sinking into the soft pillows and blankets. "You just got home, you're already cooking?" Kyungsoo grunts, and Luhan grins to himself. "And inviting me, too? You're so squishy, Kyungie."

 "Shut up." Kyungsoo growls into the phone, and there's the more rustling through cabinets. "I'll invite Chanyeol instead then."

 Luhan's grin widens; the biggest it has been all week. "You can't, he's at a bar with Yixing and Joonmyun." He wrestles himself out of his jacket one-handed, the only holding the phone against his ear and he tosses the gray coat onto the other side of the couch, loosening his dull tie and feeling more relaxed. "When can I come over?"

 "In half an hour. Or now, we're nearby." 

 Luhan hangs up, unbuttoning his shirt on the way to his room, shuffling feet and removing a hand from his buttons to switch on the hallway lights. Better. He feels, better. Though Sun Wei's voices continues to seamlessly nail the finality of his words—were they his words?—into his skull, and though Luhan heart aches and his stomach clutched in a fist because, because Sehun; yes, he feels better.

 Tossing the tie on his desk, he eyes the photographs that still remained unframed and untouched since that day. He will buy photo frames, he will. Luhan's not sure though, if he has that right to hang them up. He shakes his head, ruffling up his hair as he does so.  _No Luhan, don't think about it. It's Wednesday._

 In a sweatshirt and jeans now, he slumps against the headboard of his bed, sighing as the mattress dips for his weight and he breathes from his stomach. Such a moment of rest is only for a little bit, before groaning and heaving himself off within seconds, because keeping Kyungsoo waiting isn't very kind, nor would it be kind to his arms if Kyungsoo ripped them off. 

 His cheeks are cold and most likely flushing red as he pushes past the glass door out of the apartment, rubbing his hands together in a half-assed attempt in warming his palms. Light presses of his hands to his face, he hurries down the street, because Kyungsoo's apartment is nearby, and his scarf is a protective layer against his neck—he'll be sick soon. 

 Kyungsoo had told him and Jongin of the pass code into his apartment—he had told Chanyeol too, but he had already forgotten, so it doesn't count—and with a few quick code punches, the door swings open to an awfully neat and sleek apartment, and Kyungsoo in a pink apron and on his phone.

 Luhan blinks. "Is that pink?" 

 Kyungsoo jumps, nearly dropping his metal chopsticks that was mixing up diced onions. His ears dashed with the pinkest of pink, and well, it matches. "Baekhyun's grandmother made it, I couldn't say no," he mutters, turning his ear back to his phone.

 Luhan swings himself over to sit on the island, pushing aside a few magazines, of course, they were VERILLI, and peering over at Kyungsoo. "Who are you talking to?" Luhan mouths, watching the doe-eyed boy switch off the stove and moving pans so it cools. Kyungsoo laughs a sharp laugh, before murmuring something about ' _good luck'_  and ' _of course'._

 Humming to absolutely nothing, he flips through the magazines of past subscriptions, feet kicking against the air and heels hitting the island. Kyungsoo shoots him a withering look before saying good bye and hanging up. "Chanyeol has been rubbing off his destruction on you," he deadpans, tossing his phone onto the counter along with the pink apron. "That was just Jongin, the recital last Friday really got the attention of people."

 "That's awesome," Luhan beams. "Guess Jongin won't have to serve me pickle-less burgers at a fast food place. Interested in all of them?" Kyungsoo nods, splashing his hand under the faucet, taking the chance to flick his wrist at Luhan, water droplets flying towards his face. "Cruel person." 

 "Uh huh." He ushers Luhan off the counter, because human butts do not belong on marble counters. "They're really interested in all of them, there's this one agency that's got their eye on Sehunnie."

"Are you not going into dance?" Jongdae turns to Sehun, who turns suddenly small under the attention of everyone.

 "I do it as a thing to keep me fit," Sehun admits, and Yixing pats him on the back. "Animation is what I'll do, hopefully."

 Luhan sighs. 

_ you cant go one day _

_  one dAy luhan _

 "It's unfortunate." Luhan looks down, then up because the ceiling fan is nice to follow. "I really hope that kid goes into dance, he's really good at it. He has it, the grace, and the skills." He shuts his eyes momentarily, thankful that he has finally manage a coherent sentence that involves Sehun, a sentence that doesn't include stuttering, short breaths and Sun Wei. "You really did make a lot here," he notes, looking over at the delicious side dishes on the table.

 Kyungsoo is already pouring the pan of fried rice and diced onions into the large plate. "You better eat all of it." He hands over two rice bowls to Luhan to place on the dining table. "You look like a skeleton dipped in flesh. Have you not been eating well lately? No late night stops to Jongdae's restaurant?"

 Luhan shakes his head, a soft smile playing about his dried lips. "No. I haven't been hungry." That wasn't the right answer, he knew, because his friend's eyes flashed with concern and disappointment, before hooded by the normality again as he scoops out hot rice. 

 Kyungsoo's voice is quiet. "You could've come to my place."

He laughs, throwing his head back, resting on his shoulders. "Am I out of loop here? Everyone's been worrying over me. It's...I'm alright, you know?" Luhan sets out the napkins as well. "Really, I am." And, he really has been. For the past hours of Wednesday, because he finally eats and he finally sleeps. 

 The two of them set the dishes and plates on the table, Kyungsoo's special  _mandu_  and  _mak-bulgogi._ He immediately orders Luhan to go wash his hands, while he pulls out more wads of napkins.

 The air is sweet as they eat, the crunch of dumplings and chopsticks against each other, and Kyungsoo telling Luhan to slow down before he chokes. Which he does, coughing after an unfortunate mouthful of beef. 

 "Thank you, Kyungsoo." Luhan grins, after dabbing at the corners of his lips with a crumpled up napkin. "I feel really great, your food is so filling." He leans back into his hair, his stomach content and finally full for the first time this week. The younger one grunts, but his eyes speaks of wonders and contentment. 

 The dish rack is filled and stacked with the plates and cups, Sleek with water and resting against the hour til it dries. Kyungsoo's living room is cozy; instead of gray and black like Luhan's, it reminds him of those cottages he saw in his children's book when he read away the Saturdays as a grade schooler. 

 Saturdays were lonely as a child, too.

 And like in those children book illustrations, Luhan is nestled in a large blanket of his own, Kyungsoo not because he doesn't like feeling stuffy. In his hand, it's their graduation yearbook, because it was Kyungsoo's idea. They chuckle over warm chamomile tea that steams their chin as they hold it away from their mouth, pointing out people they knew, the bullies they remembered and betting imaginary dollars that they were flipping burgers now. Droopy eyes that still are bright as they see the photos of them together, in paint splattered aprons for school spirit and group photos on field trips.

 Luhan's thankful that he's sleepy when they reach the photos of Minseok, because Sun Wei's voices wouldn't be able to process the thought of Minseok through the haze.   
 

➳➳➳

 Thursday.

 Luhan's fridge is loaded with black plastic containers of leftovers from Kyungsoo's, who had insisted in Luhan taking it all, in case he was hungry and didn't feel like leaving his apartment.  Luhan never really wants to leave his apartment anyways, Kyungsoo's gesture only making him lazier. 

 Chanyeol was telling him about how Yixing drank last night and threw up when Seulgi approaches them, a warm smile fixed upon a bouquet of red lips that mouths words. "Changmin would like me to remind you and the editorial team that you are all free to leave at," she takes a quick glance at her watch, "2:45." With a quick bow and loose curls that hangs over her face, she excuses herself.

 "Editorial team?" Chanyeol's eyes widens. "Oh right! Us. What for, again?" Kyungsoo snorts and smacks him on the arm, muttering how he doesn't get how Chanyeol got a job here. 

 "Changmin and the design team have a big meeting in Chungmu-ro for the vintage photo shoot dates." Luhan frowns, straightening his cuffs so the buttons match. "Guess that leaves the editorial team and writing department  out until they're back tomorrow." Excited, Chanyeol checks his phone watch as the two hurry up the stairs, no elevator for Luhan today. 

 "One hour and 30 minutes so," he shoves his phone back in his breast pocket. "You guys want to hang around today? Let's go street shopping in Namdaemun! Or the bar, oh,  _oh,_ let's go mini-golfing." Kyungsoo blanches at the sound of the last offer, and Luhan nudges him, chuckling.

 "Who goes to the bar in the middle of dead afternoon? And you need to stop drinking. You literally, just drank. Last night." Chanyeol pouts, but brings up the idea of mini-golfing, which brings up Kyungsoo's hand to swat the taller one's neck. 

 The next hour, Kyungsoo's not laying around in their office this time, going back to his and Minho's, because Minho needed assistance in organizing his file cabinet. And because Minho liked pinching his cheeks, and Kyungsoo can't do anything about it because, well, sunbae and hoobae. 

 It's an hour of comfortable silence that also seems to tug at the skin that holds Luhan together. Chanyeol says a few things and jokes that goes over Luhan's head, before nose first in emails and drafts. The rest, Luhan sits in a thorn bush that's name is whispered on chapped lips.

 It's only whispered because it's not true, it's partly a lie, as well, because Sun Wei seems to shout instead of whisper, and quietude and solitary is nothing but a meek voice to remind him the world is silent. But his world wasn't.  Luhan shuts his eyes for a while, because his work is all done for the week—his sleepless nights did his work good—and he leaves right on the dot of 2:45.

 "No Namdaemun hyung?" Chanyeol buttons up the tiny bits with his big hands, huffing out irritably when he fumbles with the last few buttons. 

 Luhan shakes his head. "It's much too cold for Namdaemun." Chanyeol nods, motioning at his own ears then pointing at Luhan, telling him to pull his hat down further so his ears are covered. "Thanks, Yeollie. I'll text you later, ok?"

 "Okay, hyung!"

 Instead of going straight home, Luhan drops his bag next to the small table by the window in the coffee shop, smiling at the old woman who starts to make his coffee. Curling up against the comfy chair that has his name on it since he was 15, he finally feels the energy that has been drained. Luhan doesn't have to worry about the coffee shop owner yelling at him, because his aunt had taken him to this very shop when he came here, and he remembers sleeping against the seat after tedious Korean studying. 

 He was in a school uniform that hung too loose on his shoulders then. Now, he's in a suit that seems to speak a different name. 

 "Thank you, ahjumma." The woman sets down the cup carefully, her aging hands not wobbling. She smiles softly before pulling out the chair across from him, pulling her cardigan closer because it's cold. 

 "How is work and everything?" she asks, eyes twinkling despite old age. "You looked livelier a few days ago, last week, if I recall? You're back to looking tired again, Luhannie." She frowns, shaking her head slightly at him. 

 Luhan's lower lip dips in a pout. "I'm sorry for making you worry. I just have a lot of things on my mind lately." He lifts the coffee cup to his lips, blowing lightly before taking it, a spluttering chuckle follows. "Decaf? You're much out of age for pranks."

 She laughs, eyes crinkling like beige paper. "You don't need strong coffee today, Luhannie. Just sleep and energy." Luhan laughs, one that doesn't sound out of place in the tiny shop. "You're out of work early today, though."

 "My team was dismissed for today," Luhan replies in between sips of coffee. "I think I'll take the chance to recharge."

 "That's a good idea." The old woman doesn't mention anything about Saturday, and he wonders if she knew. 

 Luhan bids goodbye and a kiss to the old woman's cheek, thanking her for decaf and the little muffins, hurrying off to his car. December still smells of cigarettes and car exhaust, just like November, October, and every other month. Sitting in his car waiting for it to heat up, he reads over Hyunjae's text messages of  _have you eaten lunch yet? Are you covered in layers? And remember to sleep._

 Luhan looks over at his plants tiredly, its petals drooping and without nutrition. He wonders why Hyunjae brings over plants for his home, when he never waters them. 

 Slumped against the kitchen counter with a glass of milk in between intertwined fingers, he wonders if he should have gone with Chanyeol and Kyungsoo around shopping, except he knows it shouldn't be at the expensive of his health; Luhan's bound to get a cold soon anyways. He lifts his head up and huffs, and his voices aren't bothering him right now.

 Maybe Sun Wei is sleeping. 

 Pulling off his dress shirt and tossing it lazily into the hamper, he barely got his sweater pulled over his head when his phone rings, Luhan jumps in surprise. Fumbling with the hems which he hastily pulls it down over his stomach, with uncoordinated fingers, he swipes left. "Tao-ah?"

 "Lu-ge!" Tao beams into the phone, well, what Luhan thinks sounds like beaming. Tao always sounds like he's smiling, though. "I saw Kyungsoo-hyung earlier when I walked past that uh, that bread shop, I think. So I take it you're out as well?"

 "Uh huh," Luhan says, pulling down his sleeves to cover goosebumps caused by the cold. In a short glance in his mirror, it's obvious that this sweater is a bit too big for him, much like his other stay-at-home clothes that hangs over small shoulders and curtains his wrists and hands. "How are your studies for your exams?"

 Tao whines into the phone. "So hard, it's frustrating." Luhan laughs, plopping down on his bed and pulling a pillow over his lap. "Sehun's not even studying!"

 Luhan freezes. "He's not studying?"

 Tao hums for a few, before replying. "He was. A lot actually. Not this week, though, he's been in the dump and it's pretty scary to watch." Tao fakes a shudder into the phone, but Luhan doesn't laugh. "One moment he's drinking at some run-down bar near the campus then he's just sitting in a corner looking lost. I don't know what to do with him."

 "Sehun..." Luhan's fingers curl around the corners of the pillow, his breathing hitched and there's a burn starting in his chest. Again. "Why did you let him drink?" His voice only slightly wavers, and it's not noticeable enough. "Don't let him touch anymore liquor, he can't just..." Luhan sinks his nails into the soft pillow. "He has exams."

 "Gege, yeah I know Lu-ge. I have them too, so does Jongin and Taemin but, Sehun is just ignoring us. It's like he's PMS-ing. Except he has a penis and no XX chromosomes. PMS-ing without the eggs and stuff," Tao rambles, drifting in between Korean and Mandarin. Luhan stares at his feet, curling his toes in against the hard wooden flooring. Guilt seems to clog his lungs, his chest, his head. "So could you?"

 "Huh?" Luhan blinks, readjusting his phone against the shell of his ear. 

 "I think he needs something to eat, or well, someone to tell him to eat. I'm not nearby so could you bring something filling for Sehun-ah? He'll listen to you, he will." 

 "I..."

_ he'll listen to you listen to you well _

_  he listened very well on saturday _

_  leave me alone. _

 "Just bring him something he likes please? And straighten him out, even Yixing is disheartened." Tao whines into the phone. "Thanks, ge-ge!" There's a click and Luhan's hand drops in his lap atop his pillow, his mind whirling gears that threatens to burst. 

 Sehun. He...he hadn't been thinking about Sehun. Luhan hasn't thought what he would be doing. "Okay," he says quietly, though the phone is off and its just the two of them.

➳➳➳


	2. Bedtime Tragedies

Despite this being Seoul and not Rome, and that Luhan was in no way a resemblance of Julius Caesar, but reheated containers of Kyungsoo's food, placed in a large bento box felt like his legions, and Hongik was the Rubicon fucking river. Trembling hands that did their best to fasten Luhan's seat belt around him, and he'll just blame the cold weather for it. Just drop off the food, just drop the fuck out of the food and leave. Just leave. Though not exactly reassuring words, it was enough to clamp his hands tightly on the wheel instead of his wrist. 

 Though his words are venal, it also made the drive through Hongik campus ground a lot easier. The guilt from earlier doesn't dry up, still snapping at him and eating him up. And if Luhan thought groveling around with too-sweet wine that sloshed in an empty stomach, and rubbing dried eyes that hasn't seen sleep in days was terrible—this feeling, this feeling was worse.

_  your fault your fauLT YOUR FAULT _

_   My fault. _

  His heart plummets to bared rib cages when he's passing through the vibrant streets of Hongdae, crowded as it would be at night, teenagers with their blazers opened against the cold with only loose scarves and finger less gloves. There's several students at the food stands after long hours of school, and Luhan remembers him and Jongdae counting crumpled wons, see if there were enough for all four of them; Yixing and Baekhyun would be holding fort on plastic chairs and tables. 

 "Just drop the food off, Luhan," he breathes out to himself when he finds himself parked in an empty parking space. "Feed him. It's y-your fault." His words starts to rattle when he's clutching the rather large bag of packed food against his chest, nearly dropping his car keys. 

 The woman barely takes a moment to glance at him before gesturing him up, popping her bright pink bubble gum before dipping her head down to whatever romance novel she was so engrossed in. _Pull yourself fucking together, you piece of twat wrapper._ His legs didn't give way when he finally collapses against the wall for a moment, pressed against his chest and heart was the warmth of the reheated food.

 The dorm door was unlocked, ajar and welcoming Luhan in. He should scold Tao about not locking his door, but that thought is tucked in the back of his mind when he slips inside, careful to shut the door. 

 Inner Luhan looks towards the window, because it's big enough to hurl himself at it. 

 Actually, outer Luhan does the same thing. 

  _"I don't know if he's home or not, I think he's still out" my ass. Fuck you Tao,_  Luhan thinks murderously, and his breathing hitched and he wants to hitch himself on a pole as well. Sehun was sprawled against his mattress, tousled hair that seems to be derived of a brush but still looks like Luhan could run his hand through it.  _Shut up Luhan._  Sehun's snoring so lightly that he barely hears it, and...he looks _so soft._  

 Luhan quietly sets the food on the desk, allowing himself to gaze at the sweet, tall boy, arms curled up against his chest and legs lazily tucked in between fluffy blankets, head propped up on top of a blue pillow. 

_  you huRT HIM _

_  hurt him _

_  We both did. You. _

 Luhan presses a cold palm to his racing heart that refuses to stops. Sehun looks much younger—he is younger—with his cheek squished against his pillow and the whole galaxy of freckles seems relaxed.  _Leave Luhan, just leave the food and leave._ And he should, wasn't that what he had planned to do? To avoid Sehun and his problems forever?

 Taking a glance around, his shoulders slumps and his heart, his heart does, too. Oh Sehun, who was so clean and tidy about his stuff, his side of the room seems to blend in with Tao's mess. His laundry basket overflowing with many of his shirts and socks sprawled around the basket, his nightstand cluttered with red solo cups and half-emptied soju bottles that has gone stale. He winces, though no one had hit him. 

_  Your fault. _

_  Yeah. _

 Quietly tip-toeing across the room, he wraps his fingers around the necks of the bottles, careful for them not to clink together. He quietly turns the door to the bathroom to dump out the left-over alcohol into the sink basin, tossing the bottle into the trash next to it. 

 He does the same with the plastic cups, however this time, he pauses in front of Sehun's desk, papers sprawled against crumpled ones. There's undone homework, and torn post-it notes and index cards.  _Sehun._  Luhan sinks his teeth into his lower lip to keep himself from whirling around and pulling Sehun up by the shoulders. There's also a stack of Chinese books on the language, a few bookmarks stuck in various places.

 His eyes unconsciously falls on the wall, a whole sky's worth of thumb-tacks that pins up photographs. 

 His photos—their photos, are still there. 

 And oddly enough, there's a loud sigh of relief and tiredness, a whole new burden that has been dropped on his shoulders, and suddenly aware of his location, he clamps his mouth with his sleeved-covered hand. 

 "Hyung...?"  
   
 Luhan shuts his eyes tightly, hearing him slowly rise up from his mattress, the sound of wrestling blankets and a hesitate yawn. _Fuck fuckfucfckfcukfc._

 "What are you..." Luhan pries open his eyes, turning his waist a little bit so he could see Sehun. There's an edge to Sehun's voice, and it makes Luhan want to drop to his knees, sputtering swears and tears. "What are you doing here?" His last words comes out as a hoarse whisper.

 "You...must be thirsty." Luhan gulps and lets his hand fall limply by his side. His voice is stiff as well, matching Sehun's vibe. "It's not safe drinking in the dorm, and your door was unlocked. You could've been reported." Luhan with just as stiff arms reaches out for a water bottle on Sehun's desk, presumably his anyways.

 Sehun laughs humorlessly, a bit of sleep still tucked under his words. "Are you going to report me?"

 "Why would I do that?" Luhan's voice stops rattling, feeling a little bit hurt. Sehun doesn't reply, his eyes cast downwards on his blankets, and his shirt slips off his shoulder, exposing milky skin stretched over bones. He finally lets himself breathe, rather harshly, too. "You look so thin. You look,"  _like me a few days ago._  Luhan finds himself taking a few steps closer to Sehun, who stiffens even more. "Here," he hands the younger one the bottle, and his voice comes out weak and pathetic. 

 Sehun makes no attempt in taking the bottle, so Luhan just gently leaves it in the latter's cold hands. "You should wear more than just a shirt, it's cold." Luhan's voice returns back to normal, though it still wavers slightly—or too much, actually.

 "Why are you here?"

 "I brought food over, it may have gotten a little bit too cold...so I'll warm it up for you," he replies gently, seeing Sehun's eye soften a little bit makes his heart stop for a mere second. "You need to eat, and Tao said—"

 "Were you two talking about me?" Sehun mutters, pulling his shirt up so his shoulder's covered. "About how  _gay_  I am? Of how I—"

 "What? No... _no, no._  Sehun," Luhan recoils in disbelief, and the thought of jumping out of a window seems to appeal to him more and more. 

_  You deserve it. _

_  yOU DESERVE LOSING A FRIEND, YOU DISGUSTING, VILE— _

_  Sun Wei, stop.  _

 "Sehun," it comes out cracked unintentionally. Luhan drops to his knees because he knows one way or another, his weak knees will give way and leave him paralyzed. "What...what I said on Saturday. I'm sorry. It wasn't, I wasn't...I didn't mean..."

 Sehun's smile is rueful and harsh. "They never do mean it."

 "My head was a bit too messed up from the drinks last night and it was just...I could never mean those things I said to you, Sehunnie." And Luhan, who cries only when he's alone, there's stinging salt near his eyes that threatens to dip down and create steady streams down pale cheeks. This doesn't go unnoticed by Sehun, whose features softens and are less sharp, but disappointment still lingers. Luhan doesn't blame him. 

 He hates himself, too. 

 "You're...you're so, so good to me, Sehun-ah." Luhan's voice is choked, and he wishes he'd shut up. "You're a wonderful friend and...I can't explain but you're like...like a good luck charm to me. "  _You drive Sun Wei's voices away._ This time, Luhan reaches out to clamp his warm hands over Sehun's cold ones, rubbing steady circles around the younger's flesh. He half-expects Sehun to pull away in disgust, or swat his hand away. But he doesn't. No, he doesn't. "Please don't let me lose you." It comes out as a croak. He's weak. He's pathetic. So terribly weak that he can't even see it, because all he sees are Sehun's clouded eyes and thin shoulders and hands. 

 Strands of Sehun's hair droops down like curtains over his face. "You bastard. You said awful things to me. Things that made me feel less human and more like a monster." He doesn't skip a beat as he's talking, that seems to rip Luhan apart even more. "Things I kept hearing in Daegu. Things that made me leave."

  _Made me leave._

 Luhan's grip on Sehun tightens, and Sehun, surprised, looks right at Luhan. "Don't leave. Don't leave because I said stupid things."

 Sehun's laugh is dry, and Luhan winces, but his grip on Sehun's hand doesn't loosen. "It took a few years and a whole lot of people to get me rid of me back home. Your stupid comments won't be enough to drive me away." He leaves off with a joking air towards the end, though it sounds forced and desperate. "I'm not...hyung, I don't know if I could forgive you so easily."

 "I know."

 "It'll take a few days."

 "That's fine, I deserve it. I think you're forgiving me too easily." Sehun's eyes melts completely, and Luhan can finally see his reflection in his eyes, and unconsciously, there's a spread of pearly white grin shared between them, one of them hesitant and one of them with a lingering sadness.

 Both have a tinge of relief, though. 

 "I just want you to explain," Sehun squeezes Luhan's hand again before loosening his grip, not before he pulls Luhan up so he's sitting on his bed instead of kneeling on the floor. "Why...why you said those things. Then, I can..." Sehun gulps. "Get over you. And stay friends, hyung."

 Luhan manages a smile, somehow. But there's something that tears him apart inside, like something went wrong. He shakes his head slightly, but pats the younger one's arms lightly. "I will, after you eat. And take a shower, food taste better when you're all fresh." Sehun laughs, and it sounds so real that Luhan starts to laugh too, between rows of pearly teeth and red fleshed out lips from biting. 

 "Will you be here, still? When I'm out of the shower?" It sounds more like a plea than a question, but Luhan doesn't say anything except yes and a smile. Sehun slowly rises up from the bed and stumbles a bit, blinking rapidly to regain focus and stability as he tries to smile at Luhan.

 It comes out forced—but was he to be blame, after everything?

 The old door to the bathroom shuts after much struggle and grunting, and Luhan staggers to his feet as well, feeling lightheaded and the guilt, the guilt isn't gone, not yet. Suddenly aware of how stuffy he feels in his coat, he peels it off and folds it neatly against Tao's chair, looking around at the clutter of mess.

 Though Luhan was not a very organized person, somewhere in the middle he suppose, he bends down and starts grabbing the clothes on the floor and stuffing them in the laundry basket that threatens to break. He shoves as many as he can into the basket, tossing crumpled napkins and wrappers into the trash bin before lifting up the basket with a gasp, suddenly heavier than he expects as he nearly stumbles.

 "Weak ass arms," he mutters, tightening his arm around the basket firmly, and somehow opens the door, stumbling out with a yelp as the basket handle digs into his ribs. The basket did a very good job of hiding his red flushed face after asking about four other students on how to get to the laundry room, some of them mumbling or speaking so rapidly that Luhan just stares blankly, just as he did when he had his first test in Korea. 

 Shuffling through the halls in a too-big sweatshirt and jeans that dig into his thighs, he finally shoves pass the door into the student dorm laundry room. And for once, he was thankful for his face that allows him to pass for a student instead of well, a 25 year old. Fumbling through his pocket for coins, he dumps Sehun's load into the machine, yelping when the door hits his elbow. "Get your fucking shit together Luhan," he mutters, ignoring the stares of a girl next to him as he counts the wons. "Get your shit and bundle it up in a god damn care package for Sehun."

 "That would be a very disappointing care package." 

 Luhan jumps, nearly dropping all of his coins onto the rather dusty floor. "Oh, Jongin, hi." Luhan grins sheepishly, pulling his sleeves down his hands and giving a floppy wave. "Hi."

 Jongin grins, unfolding his arms which were against his chest in a wave as well. "Hi hyung." He peers over Luhan, at the load of clothes and buttons. "Oh, Sehun?"

 "Yeah."

 "Getting his act together finally?" In Jongin hand there was a coffee cup and a small subtle coffee stain on his sleeve. Luhan bets Jongin tripped on the way up here. "Good."

 Luhan rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, mumbling a response. "Oh, I guess. Yeah."

 Jongin nods in  _ah_ , and takes a few steps forward, stepping behind Luhan and in front of the washing machine. He holds out a free hand expectantly. Luhan, however, just stares at the hand blankly. When a few seconds pass and there's nothing in his hand, Jongin chuckles and turn towards his hyung. "The wons. You don't know how to work this don't you?"

 "Shut up, I do." 

 "Uh huh." Luhan hands over the coins anyways, Jongin barely counting them before pressing them into the slots, and quick fingers working the buttons on the load size and such. It starts to spin, and Jongin leans back against the wall, dipping the cup so he could drink. 

 "How are your studies going?" 

 Jongin groans. "Okay. I just got out of another boring class an hour ago, and Taemin fell asleep in that lesson that _cuntflap_ —why do I need English?" He whines, lower lip sticking out and wide eyes that oddly resembles a puppy. Luhan laughs, and it's loud when there's only Jongin's cursing and the whirling of washing machines as competition. "Hyung, can you help me study with stats?"

 "You wish." Luhan rubs his arms rapidly, trying to convert friction into some form of warmth into his skin. "Is the laundry room always cold?"

 "Uh huh." Jongin checks the time on his watch before flashing Luhan a smile. "Hey, I got to go meet up with friends for some dumb study group. I'm only doing it because there's this really hot girl Joohyeon in it and—"

 Luhan reaches out to ruffle up his hair, smacking him in the process, too. "Oh, just study you twit. Make sure Sehun studies, too, ok?" Jongin nods, waving bye before disappearing out the door and around the corner. He waits until Jongin is finally out of sight with the sound of his heavy combat boots stomping down the stairs that Luhan leaves in hurry as well, the cold too much for him as he sneezes. 

 A vague sense of the dorms, he walks past Sehun's dorm about two times before making a beeline to go back to it, knocking on the door, once, and twice. The door opens immediately, wet-haired Sehun, his strands of his hair clumped together against his temples, and beads of water bejeweled his skin like diamonds. "Hyung..."

 "Sorry about that." Luhan smiles sheepishly and apologetically. "I went to put off your laundry in the machine. I'll get it later."

 "No, it's okay," he replies quietly, opening the door wider for Luhan to slip in. "I'll get it myself. Thank you. I just thought..."

 "...that I left?" Luhan rolls up his sleeves so it all bundles up at his elbows, and looks back at Sehun. "I said I wouldn't. Sorry for not mentioning it, Sehunnie." He plops down on Tao's bed, and eyes Sehun's bed, which was neat and so impeccable that there wasn't even a crinkle in the fold. Sehun rubs at his hair roughly, before flinging it over his shoulders and trudging towards his bed, lowering down until there were finally crinkles. 

 The air starts to thicken, Luhan staring at the carpet and Sehun, Sehun is just quiet in general. Gears are whirling in Luhan's brain, shifting and rusting. There are things he wants to say, and things he doesn't. Things he should say, things he shouldn't. "Before we talk. I want you to eat," Luhan says, lifting up his head, only to reach eye contact with Sehun and realizing that he was watching him. Flustered, Sehun looks away, his cheeks either red from earlier in the shower or from him. 

 This is hard for Sehun, Luhan knows. It's hard for him, too.

  _So, so hard._

 "I'm not hungry," Sehun replies, smiling softly. "Really."

 "I don't care." Luhan heaves himself off of the bed, moving towards the table with the bag of packed meals. "I'll reheat this, you're eating it, ok?"

 "I..." Sehun starts, but it falters when Luhan bores his eyes into his. "Okay." His shirt is wet at the shoulders, and at the ends of his sleeves. Luhan notices in the corner of his eye that he pulls up his long legs against his chest, nestling his chin on top of his knees. 

 Luhan peels back the Tupperware lids, careful to mix it up before closing the microwave. "Kyungsoo made these, you'll like it."

 "I will."

 When it beeps, Sehun slowly rises to from the bed and towards the fold up chairs and table, ripping out napkins from its plastic wrapping and paper plates. "Tao and I rarely eat in our room, and paper plates are disposable," he explains, setting down the pink plates. "Don't ask, he chose the plates."

 Luhan chuckles, warmth bubbling over dried lips and grins. Carefully, he sets down the containers one by one, until it nearly fills up the entire table. Sehun stares down at all the side dishes kept into black containers, Luhan scooping out large amounts of rice into Sehun's plate. "I...this is a lot."

 "Uh huh, eat it." Luhan sits back down on the rickety chair, peeling off his sweatshirt and tossing it against the back of his chair. "Here—" he thrusts a pair of wooden chopsticks towards Sehun. "You like japchae, right? Kyungsoo's japchae is amazing."

 Sehun smiles, his eyes, half-moon crescents against a constellation of freckles and the crinkles of stardust at the dip of his eyes. "This is slightly better than ramyun." 

 Luhan narrows his eyes. "Don't tell me all this week you've been eating just ramyun and soju?" Sehun's smile turns slightly apologetic. Luhan's eyes softens, and his heavy head hangs on shoulder strings. He shuts his eyes, letting the mess of laundry, the clutter of unfinished schoolwork and empty soju bottles smother his mind. "It's...it's my fault, isn't it?"  _It is my fault._

 Sehun drops his chopsticks on the edge of his plate. "Hyung." Luhan doesn't respond, only grabbing clumps of rice and kimchi onto his own plate, and more for Sehun. They're both quiet now, the air even thicker than before as their stomach starts to fill with food, something finally filling. 

 Luhan's busy folding the greased stain plates into small sizes so he could shove it into the trash bin, the chopsticks and crumpled napkins following suit. "Thank you for coming over and...getting me up and fed." Sehun finally says, rubbing his arm up and down as he looks around the dorm room. "And cleaning my room, I really am thankful."

 Luhan freezes, his chest feeling like rusty pipes breaking. "Don't be like that," he mutters, splashing his hands under the hand sanitizer bottle. "You sound so stiff."

 "Okay." 

 They're sitting on the bed, a space of air between them; a space in general. Heads resting against the wall, one of them with their legs crossed and the others counting the number of squares on the plaid bed sheet. "I should explain myself," Luhan starts slowly, letting the words roll off his tongue in an agonizing time. "And I will."

 Sehun doesn't say anything, just nods. "I'm not...I'm not homophobic, god, I shouldn't have said those things, but Friday, that night I just...I didn't know what happened. I still don't know what to do about it, and those words, I could never mean those things. Those weren't my words. I...I swear. I made you feel like shit and I...if I could take those words back I swear to god, Sehun-ah, I would." Luhan takes a breather and shuts his eyes, curling his fingers inward at the fistful of plaid spread so his palms won't be victims.

 His palms and flesh _do_ fall victims to Sehun's long fingers, the space lessening and Sehun grabbing Luhan's wrist, knitted borrows and hard lines around the lips. "Your hands...?" Luhan winces, realizes his sweatshirt is on the other side of the room, and his hands are fully exposed. "There's a lot of marks...Luhan you aren't—"

 He pulls his hand away quickly, a small, itsy bitsy part of him regretting it when the warmth is gone. "No it's not like that. I just...have a habit. I just unconsciously scratch at my arms and stuff and...it's not serious. It doesn't hurt, really." Sehun's hands falters, and not knowing what to do with them, he just lets them sit in the space between them. "Don't make a big deal out of them, they're nothing."

 They're nothing now. 

 "They're not nothing," Sehun's eyes hardens, and his voice seems to waver. "Hyung, if this was because of Friday..."

 Luhan smiles, hand outreached to pat Sehun's knuckles. They're warm, and Luhan wonders if Sehun is always warm like this. "It was because of Saturday." Sehun looks up, and they hold eye contact, _really do_. "I won't blame you for shit if you don't forgive me but Sehunnie, I really am sorry and I regretted it immediately." 

 He won't tell Sehun about wine and empty stomachs, and scary nights where shadows were the worst companies and Sun Wei...Sun Wei was there. Sehun doesn't have to know of him running out of wine so he settles for cheap soju at the convenience store that he vomits up the next morning. There's bruises on his knees when he's too out of it to watch where he's going. 

 Regret ends in stinging flesh and raw sobs on restless nights.

 There's a strike of something against Sehun's eyes, beads of water between his brows. "I will. We're getting there." Luhan's chest seems to burst at the sound of his words. Sehun reaches out for Luhan's hand again, but he hesitates. And Luhan notices, smothering his small fingers all over Sehun's, offering the younger one a sweet smile. "It'll be fine, hyung. I just want to...I just want to,  _fuck,_  I just want to be by you. As a friend. Hyung, as a friend." 

 Luhan nods, but he feels queasy. "When I said I didn't care, do you remember?" Please don't remember. "On, on Saturday, about Daegu."

 "Y-yeah."

 "I really care."  _I fucking care so much,_  "so tell me." Luhan frowns. "If you want, that is."

 Sehun lets go, and settles his head against the headboard and clutching on his pillow. "I'd like that." He talks really slowly, as if hesitate. He probably is. "But let's make a promise first."

 "A promise?"

 Sehun nods. "A promise to forget Friday...Friday and Saturday." He looks away, staring at particularly nothing. "It would be the best, right? I mean, look at us." He laughs loudly, but it's awkward against the cool air. "A few days and we're a wreck." A car wreck. They're like the crushed up side doors and the wheel that seems to spin on its own; much after the crash.  _They're car wrecks,_ Sehun and Luhan.

 "Okay." Luhan will promise to forget kissing Sehun, and that he taste like mint and alcohol. "I'll say it again—you...you being gay. There's no issue with that, regardless of what I said. I'm sor—"

 "Stop saying sorry," Sehun cuts him off with a wary smile. "I know you are. And let's just forget it. Ok?"  _Okay._  He pulls the blanket over Luhan's shoulders, covering up thin shoulders and arms that bares thorns, and Luhan's grateful; because it's warmer under the soft pine blankets. 

 Sehun shuts his eyes momentarily, soft lashes against cheekbones and freckles. And when he breathes out, it's shaky, with the bob of the apple and frowning lips. "I loved Daegu. I miss chasing ice cream trucks when it turned it corner. I miss doing chores with my brother so we'd get those wons to buy big bright ice cream Popsicle. Shit, you'd love the music there. It's quiet and it's nice to listen to when you need a seat by the food vendors in the summer. I _loved_ Daegu."

 Somewhere in between the shaky breaths and confessions, Luhan's rubbing circles on the younger one's knuckles, soothing him like the hyung he should be. Would be. "My brother was smart, knotty. Really, really fucking smart. Smart enough to go to college when our family wouldn't be able to afford it. Scholarship, that fun thing." Sehun tosses his head back, his hair starting to dry. "He was...he is the most admirable in my family. Lawyer, great, right?" 

 Luhan furrows his brows together, but doesn't say anything. Sehun will talk this time. 

 There's a faint smile tied together onto Sehun's lips. "He helped me with dance school, and college. He loved me like a big brother." His words starts to falter and they sound weaker with each syllable. "That love was questionable after I came out, to everyone."

 "Sehun..."

 "It wasn't too terrible at first. My friends thought it was a joke, until I got a boyfriend in high school. And my mom and dad..." he takes a moment to shut his eyes. "Didn't like seeing my face. And my big, admirable brother, started to pull his hand out of my life, and everything, everything just fucking crashed. My places in recitals disappeared—my friends no longer wanted to be around me in the locker room. Didn't want to sit next to me. Scared that me, a _homosexual boy_ would molest them." Sehun laughs dryly, and Luhan winces. "Classes were hard when I couldn't have anyone to study with. And...my brother was on the edge around me, facing the corners instead of me."

 Luhan's quiet. "Is this when you..."

 Sehun nods, the faint smile seeming forced. "I left. I asked for one more favor from my brother, To just pull more strings and let me escape Daegu. The place I loved abused me, and Seoul, I wanted to go to Seoul. Start fresh."

 "But you let Jaehyun and Ten know."

 Sehun pulls his legs up to his chest again, pulling his hand away from Luhan to run a hand through tangled hair. "I did. I knew them from campus, they were pro-gay. I heard about them through someone about them apart of a gay straight alliance underground. So I thought..." Sehun looks away. "I'd be safe. With them."

 Luhan's heart aches. 

"You kept it all from us?" Luhan asks, but it comes out as a statement and a whisper. There's no accusatory undertone either, because there's more than one secret holder. "At least I know now." Sehun eyes stay downcast, but only until Luhan reaches out to give his wrist a small squeeze. "Thank you, for telling me."

  _i know the way your lips feel against mine._

 When Sehun looks up, his eyes are bright with a gleam that seems to swallow Luhan insides; the gleam he's trying to hold back by blinking and tilting his head back. "It must have been really hard for you," Luhan continues, sorrow and guilt threading holes in him. It fucking hurts. 

 "Yeah," Sehun says lowly, his voice a bit thick but there's relief in them. 

_"Humans are entitled to their secrets."_

_"Only the insane and the unstable are."_

 Sehun's not insane or unstable anymore.

 Just him. Just Luhan.

 Sehun's eyes start to droop, though there's a soft smile that ties together his face. "Go to sleep," Luhan says softly, pulling the blanket off his lap and giving Sehun a slight push, so the taller one slumps down against soft pillows and a comfy mattress. He doesn't argue, he's too tired to argue. Sehun lets Luhan drape the blanket over him, pulling it tightly so it covers his hands, shoulders, and feet. It's cold.

 Unconsciously, Luhan reaches out to pull his hair out of his face, cool fingers that brushes against Sehun's skin, and he shivers. It's only when Sehun bores his sleepy, sweet eyes into his that Luhan freezes, letting go with a sheepish grin. "Sleep now, I'll get going," he whispers, pulling himself off the bed and grabbing his phone and wallet off the nightstand.

 "Hyung."

 "Yeah?"

 Sehun opens his eyes, palms cupping his own cheek in a very child-like position. Which is, well, actually odd, because Sehun looks like he's much older than Luhan and Sehun is tall. And manly. "I have just...one more question." 

 "Okay."

 "I stopped on Tuesday, I did. But I...in a fit of haste I went and got several Chinese books." Sehun says, his voice slightly muffled but still audible. "One because...you, Yixing, Kris, and Tao speak it and I just wanted to reach out to my friends more and two," Luhan heart does a flop. "I wanted to know what you said on Saturday."

 Luhan hands start to get clammy. 

 Sehun continues. "You said sorry. You said I'm sorry, hyung, that's all I could manage. But I can't figure out the last part. What you said afterwards." From here, Sehun seems thoroughly frustrated through light freckles and blankets. 

 Luhan looks down, and tries to keep his voice light. "It's nothing important, Sehunnie." His voice sounds less light, but more like crumpled paper. "Go to sleep."

 Sehun's silent, and he doesn't push any further. "Thank you, hyung. For letting me be by you again."

 "Thank you, Sehunnie."  
And somehow, Sehun manages to leave his name on Luhan's neck, hands, lips, forehead, and knees, all without touching him. 

➳➳➳

Friday starts with a message from Sehun, followed by various new emoticons and a photo attached, of Tao snoring on his textbook with his hair sticking out. 

Hyunjae meets him during his lunch hour, and she's beautiful—soft curls and pink lips that's usually tinted with a lip balm that smells like coconut. Her nose red from the cold and she looks like a doll. But no matter how beautiful she was; Luhan finds it hard to look at her. 

 So he looks at her nose instead because it looks like he's looking at her eyes. "You're eating a lot today," she smiles, setting her spoon down on the rim of the bowl. "That's good."

 Luhan smiles back. "I'm just hungry." Hyunjae nods, sipping on her tea as he scoops a tofu into his spoon, but he doesn't eat it. "Hyunjae." She looks up, and the diner is loud so he doesn't feel uncomfortable. 

 "Yes?"

 "Is it burdensome—being with me?" Luhan asks, and it surprises her. Her lips part to say something, but she doesn't. He does, though. "I just...we're not, I'm not much, right? I can't offer much except phone calls from your cousin's clinic and medications for my—"

 "Why are you bringing this up all of a sudden?" Hyunjae cuts him off, her honey brown brows slanted and her coconut lips frowning. "It's not good for you to talk about it, Luhannie, you shouldn't."

 Luhan nods, and his cheeks are red. "I know. It's just that...I was talking to a friend yesterday. And he told me...told me secrets. And my secrets, I haven't told anyone." I haven't even told you. "And it's just bringing up questions like...if I'm burdening you." Burdening you with my sleepless nights that you don't really know about, bothering you with untouched medications that you think are for my mild depression. Except it's not really mild, just better. And it's bothering me that it's not for the reasons I have, but for the reasons you think I have.

 Hyunjae dabs at her lips, pulling off from lip tint and she sighs, her eyes dim with something on her mind. "Wednesday, you should talk to Ryeowook on Wednesday."

 "There's a lot of things I have to talk about on Wednesday."  
 

➳➳➳

   
 Luhan's back to sipping tea in the colorful shop. Except it's not bubble tea but hot, herbal one that burns his lips but warms his throat. Early morning stretches over cigarette-filled air and cold hands that can't seem to find warmth from the side of the cup. Somewhere between September and now, he has claimed the beanbag in the back of the shop when customers are busy at the counter. 

 Sehun sits in the back of the shop, pencil dashing across papers in messy Hangul, Jaehyun smacking him off the side of his head for neglecting his homework for week. "You're a terrible example, a shitty role model hyung," Jaehyun snips, handing Sehun his own drink. "You're suppose to be a good example to an aspiring high school student!" Sehun spares moment to knock Jaehyun's hat off. 

 "Yeah, yeah, I'm doing it, I'm doing it!" Luhan smiles, the scene unfolding in front of him of bickering students. “And I am a good role model—I'm doing extra courses.” Ten's working the register, and when Luhan looks over at him, he smiles. Except Ten looks sort of sad, an underlying tone to it and Luhan can't seem to ignore it.

 Luhan has his phone on but he's not paying attention to it, just a group chat with Baekhyun and Yixing spamming photos of cute puppies they saw in Dongdaemun. His laptop is warm against his legs, the screen on with emails. He scrolls past the emails from his father everyday, and it gets easier everyday. 

 Sehun sometimes looks up from his homework, smiling at Luhan broadly before dipping his head back down, scribbling across the paper.

 Luhan sets the laptop down on the floor and heaves himself off, to toss away the empty cup. "Hi hyung," Ten chirps, giving a jaunty wave.

 "Hi," Luhan looks back at Jaehyun and Sehun, Jaehyun poking at Sehun's ear and pulling it, and the latter elbowing him away, cursing. "I made up with Sehun. I apologized, a lot," he says, stuffing his fists into the pockets of his jeans, and rocks back and forth on his heels.

 "I can see that," Ten beams. "You're in the shop and stuff, and talking to him, actually." Luhan chuckles, but he doesn't ignore the sad glint in the younger one's eyes. 

 "You look down."

 Ten shakes his head, rolling down his sleeves and glancing over at Sehun. "I just feel like it's still hard for him, to cope with stuff." His voice is quiet, even if the background music is louder than his voice, and can't be heard over the shuffling of papers and Jaehyun's squeals. Luhan doesn't say anything, except stare at the back of Sehun's head, and his hair looks so soft. There's a mole on the side of his neck, not at all out of place.

 "Want more tea?" Ten's quick to change the subject, noticing the thick air between him and Luhan. He nods, Ten disappearing into the back to brew it.

 Luhan slumps against the snug beanbag, shutting his laptops screen and sinking his head into the chair, shutting his eyes, pulling down the collar of his sweater because it's still too warm in the shop.

 " _Shh!_ "

 "What?"

 "Luhan-hyung's sleeping you tinfoil!" It's Sehun who's hissing at Jaehyun, and Luhan hears his hand slapping over someone's mouth. 

 Luhan can't help but let a grin spread across his lips. "I'm not sleeping, carry on." He sits up right, just so he can open his eyes and make eye contacts at the two, who were looking back at him with sheepish eyes. "I'm not sleeping."

 ➳➳➳

Saturday hangout this week consists of a bar and once again, a drunk Baekhyun who's seething at some poor man for wearing the same shirt as him. "But Chanyeol! I fucking swear, he's trying to copy me!" It's some underground club this time, a whole lot of it a cacophonous, the smaller, minor part of it was actual drinking. 

 Kris looks like a changed man when he's not in wide frame glasses and a plaid flannel, slumped next to Yixing, who again, was not drinking, but humming along the the song that's loud to all of their ears. Hyunjae doesn't come again, because bars aren't her thing, and it doesn't surprise Sehun or Luhan when Joonmyun doesn't show up, either.

 Let them. 

 Sehun knows, of course he does. It was a hasty Thursday when Luhan was tripping over sidewalk cracks and through fogged up windows that held the image of Joonmyun and Hyunjae. But it doesn't stop him from glancing over at Luhan worryingly, but it stops when Luhan flashes a relaxed grin back at him, because he's not angry, upset, or disappointed. Because he understands. And because, well, he can't even look at Hyunjae, let alone sit with her throughout the night of friends and pushed away thoughts that consists of peppered kisses and touches. Those were ignored tonight.

 "Are you going to drink hyung?" Sehun nudges Luhan out of his thought, who's watching Jongdae down a messy glass of Jameson, a few drops missing his lips and Chanyeol scowls at him when it splatters the table and napkins. Luhan shakes his head. 

 "I drank a lot of wine over the week, that's enough for me." Sehun nods in understanding, because he, too, have been drinking too much for the weekdays.

 So they don't drink, both with tall glasses of coke and a platter of buffalo chicken in the middle of the table, and had Jongin been here, he would have leaped across the table and snatch the entire plate. Jongin and Tao weren't here at all though, cramming in weeks of studying in a few nights. 

 "Sehunnie," Kyungsoo looks up at Sehun, who's swirling the straw around in his soda. "Don't you need to study for your English exams?" Sehun smiles, shaking his head as he takes a sip.

 "No, I've been study every single day,"  _except for this week._  "I'm perfectly fine for the exams." Sehun takes the English program during the winter vacation. “After the exams, I'm completely free off campus.” Kyungsoo and Jongdae looks impressed, satisfied with the answer as they tilt their head back and raise their hands for another round of drinks. Jongdae tosses them a few wads of napkins, his voice bubbly with cheer and alcohol. 

 Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. "Who's going to take him and Baekhyun home today?" Yixing avoids eye contact, and Kris does, too. Luhan groans, slumping back against the hard leather of the booth. Jongdae and Baekhyun were the ones who were always cheerful and jumpy in the first place—without any alcohol in the system. In fact, the first time Luhan met Baekhyun during the study class in their first year, Luhan was completely bewildered, convinced that he had transferred to a high school filled with drug-induced students.

 And Jongdae, isn't as bad as Baekhyun, but overall was too smiley and had a terrible case of the laughter, and a thing for pranking his friends. Luhan stares warily at his best friend, who was laughing at a small splotch of buffalo sauce on the side of the plate, like it was the biggest pun ever. 

 Sehun nudges him. "Hyung?"

 "We're going to die tonight, Sehun."

 "What?"

 Chanyeol grins, his ears even perkier and his teeth just a fucking gleam of white. "It means Luhan is driving the two, and since he drove you here, godspeed to you, you and Luhan will have the grace of dealing with them," he explains in a sing-song face.

 "Why Luhan-hyung?" Sehun stares at Baekhyun and Jongdae amused, the two now smothering the leather seat. 

 "Because Kyungsoo will kill Baekhyun, and Chanyeol will probably crash the car with all three of them in the same moving vehicle." Kris deadpans, scooting away from Baekhyun as he spoke.   
   
Luhan throws his head back, knocking his elbow into Sehun's. "Why did I get stuck with a bunch of twit panties, what was I thinking?" Sehun chuckles, nudging Luhan's elbow off him. Half of the table consists of drunkards and weary friends trying to peel the said drunkards off their arms. The other side of the table consists of a sleepy Yixing and light and quiet pair of tousled black hair friends; the taller one and the older chatting away in a sudden comfort. 

 "They're fun though." Sehun's wearing a V-neck, despite Luhan scolding him for not dressing appropriately in the very close snow weather. Sehun had protested earlier with the point of his jacket and scarf. Luhan's glad at least, that Sun Wei isn't around to gnaw on his flesh. "My friends back in Daegu," he pauses, and Luhan looks over to see his bright eyes go dim by a margin. 

 "Your friends?"

 "They were fun like this, too. A few of the smoked but they weren't bad people. My clothes ended up smelling like smoke and cigarette butts for the entire week. My best...my best friend was quite the clown." Sehun nibbles on a piece of fry, Luhan reaching out to grab a handful of fries before Baekhyun could swallow the entire greasy plate. Sehun sighs, and his eyes are lit again and not so sad. "What about you, what about China? Any old friends?"

 Luhan freezes. 

 "Just one." Luhan's coke has melted ice cubes, the sugary drink now watered down. "My cousin. He...was very dear to me."

_  hurt me hurt me in the dark like you did in that room _

➳➳➳

 Luhan hasn't touched any alcohol, but he feels drowsy and lightheaded around midnight, his head nodding a few times despite the music being too loud and too much. Kris hands him a wad up jacket to rest his hand against, and Sehun looks over questionably at him.

 Jongdae grins through beer tinted lips and a red tongue from all the spicy food they've ordered. "Luhannie, lulu-hyung gets sleepy a lot! Especially when his body decides to sleep." He hiccups, and groans, leaning against a dazed Yixing. 

 "I'm not that sleepy yet," Luhan says, smiling at his friend who's playing with Yixing's collar. "My insomnia was acting up again this week, so I couldn't get a good hour in." Sehun tugs at his elbow, murmuring something about sleep on my shoulder. But Luhan shakes his head, rubbing at his eyes. "My head is heavy," he whispers, sleep eyes smiling up at a blurry Sehun. "Your shoulder will hurt."

 "It's fine." Sehun pulls at him again, but Luhan doesn't budge. "Your head isn't heavy." Sehun pulls his head in closer to Sehun's arm, but it smells like pine and something else. Like smoke. 

 His chest relaxes against his shoulder, the smell of winter pines soothing his nose and makes him feel warm. But he pulls away after a few seconds, shaking his head again. 

 "I just feel like it's still hard for him, to cope with stuff." 

 Jongdae hiccups. "I'm jealous. Sehunnie will replace  _m-meeee_  as Lulu's best friend." He thrashes around, his ramyun hair bouncing as he does so. "Sehunnie, you're using nefarious means!"

 Sehun grins and his cheeks are pink, and so are his ears. Luhan kicks Jongdae under the table, beaming when he sees his best friend wince in a very, drunkard way. "Oh shut up, Jongdae. How could I ever replace a noodly piece of shit like you?"

 "That hurts more than it comforts me." 

 Luhan feels less tired, the drowsiness lift off his shoulders and he sits back up, though his voice is still heavy and so are his eyelids. Kyungsoo chatting away animatedly with Kris, and Chanyeol taking photos of drunk Baekhyun. 

 There's a lot of glasses on the tables, two of them are sodas, one's a margarita and the others are heavy as fuck beer that's sure to have Baekhyun and Jongdae wandering around pant less in a brothel or a graveyard. Through half closed eyes he can see Chanyeol swatting Jongdae's hand away from his phone, murmuring something about grabby hands that reeks of spilled tonic.

 "Is your insomnia really bad?" Sehun whispers into the shell of Luhan's ear, and Luhan's stomach does a flop, though he's so used to it. Luhan shrugs, careful not to rub at his eyes anymore because the skin is too fragile and too dark. Sehun frowns at the lack of response, and turns towards everyone at the table. "I think Luhan should go home and rest. I'll drive and take Baekhyun and Jongdae-hyung, too."

 There's a whine from Baekhyun, followed by a shriek that's paired with Kyungsoo's flat palm against the back of his neck. "I think we should all be getting home, all but Yixing, Sehunnie and Luhan will be facing a big ass welcome to hangover world."

 "I want to go to to _Lotte World_ instead!" Kyungsoo smacks Baekhyun again. 

 Yixing grins, pulling his hoodie straps over his lips and starts gnawing on the string. "I wonder if Jongdae will be able to make you all hangover soup at his state." Luhan slumps against the leather seat, the music not as loud because all his thoughts are muddled and muffled.

 All of a week's worth of little sleep, not only does it catch up to him, but it snatches him by the tailcoat and unravel him. Luhan didn't need expensive alcohol to put him to sleep. There's two slender hands that tucks themselves under Luhan's arm, and he squirms a bit because it's a little ticklish. "I'm going to get you to your car okay, I'm going to drive you." Luhan pries open his eyes, blinking a few painful blinks because his eyes are dried.

 "I can drive."

 "Let's not be stupid now, hyung." Sehun says mildly, getting Luhan up on his feet and handing him his hat, scarf, and jacket. "It's really cold tonight."

 "This isn't my scarf." Luhan toys with the incredibly soft cashmere fabric, and it smells earthy. 

 "I know," Sehun replies, pulling his own jacket over himself. "It's mine. Wear it, okay?" Luhan nods hesitantly, wrapping it around his neck until it tickles bottom lip. He watches Sehun pull Baekhyun and Jongdae up from their seat, patting off crumbs off him, and it's a cute sight, Luhan thinks.

 Jongdae gets up from his seat easily, and that's a lot comparing what Luhan would have to say about Baekhyun. "Sehunnie, your jacket— _it's fucking green_!" Sehun stares down at Baekhyun with flat eyes. 

 "Yes..."

 "My..." Baekhyun thrashes around with his entire body. " _My belt_  is green! Oh my god Sehunnie, oh my fuckery!" Sehun goes on to ignore the limp idiot, waving goodbye to Kris and Yixing, who were getting ready themselves. Luhan, pulls the scarf over his face a bit more, turning around only a few times to glare at Baekhyun who kept squealing _fuckery fuckery fuckery_ like it was the magic word. 

 Luhan slows down for Jongdae, who is very well drunk but not fucking insane as Baekhyun. "Jongdae-ah," Luhan grins, though it's tired and he can't see. Jongdae beams, squinting his eyes a few times, probably because his eyes are blurry. 

 "Lu-lu!" he says loudly, hooking his arm around Luhan's neck. "Lu-lu-hyung!" Luhan doesn't push off Jongdae, partially because he's used to it, and mostly because he feels sad towards the boy who is his best friend, and also the boy who Luhan keeps secrets from, because Luhan, he's scared. 

 Especially since his secret is staggering behind him with a drunk boy smothering his arm. 

 It was like tucking in toddlers, trying to get Baekhyun and Jongdae into the backseat with their seat belts on. It was another task to tackle, trying to shut the door without chopping out one of their hanging arms, because they thought it was a fabulous idea to stick a leg out when Sehun's trying to shut the door.

 Luhan has half a mind to just slam the car door on their fingers. 

 He pulls out his car keys, fumbling with it because it's too dark outside to see which buttons are which. "I'm driving, hyung." Sehun sticks out a bare palm, eyeing the keys before turning back to Luhan's eyes with a warm grin and the eyes are just the same.

 Luhan shakes his head. "It's okay, I'm awake now. I can drive." He turns his back on Baekhyun to open the door, but Sehun slips past him and plops down, plucking the clutter mess of keys out of Luhan's hands. "Sehun."

 "You're obviously tired, hyung." Sehun says, and his tone leaves no room for arguments, no such thing. All he can do was sigh, shuffling his feet to the other side, to the passenger seat.  
  


➳➳➳

 "Oh my god Jongdae—don't drop your phone out the fucking window!" 

 It's a short ride, but when Luhan glanced over at Sehun, the boy looked as if he wanted to crash the car into the side of some store. It was a bad idea to turn on the music with whatever CD Luhan had in it, the two of them screeching along to the song. Now, they are pretty good in general; Luhan recalls Jongdae and Baekhyun being proud members in the choir in high school. But when their filter is watered down by bitter rum and dry-ass soju? 

 _Hah_.

 Both Sehun and Luhan let out a sigh of utter relief, when they pull up at Baekhyun's place, because it's the closest. Luhan starts to unbuckle his seat belt, before Sehun reached out shook his head. "I'll bring him in, I've been at his house for studying before." Luhan nods, letting Sehun bring Baekhyunnie in before Luhan could, who would probably turn around and send him to an asylum the moment he breathed outside the car. 

 Sehun comes out quickly, and since Jongdae was only a few blocks down from Baekhyun, it's much easier getting him off than the earlier one. 

 "I felt like I was the one that got drunk," Sehun groans, running a hand through silky dark hair that seems impossible to tangle. 

 Luhan's apartment, stairs that feel like a lot as Sehun follows behind him in a count of three steps behind. It's the second flight of stairs before Luhan stops and turns around, unraveling the scarf around his neck with a sleepy smile. "Thank you, Sehunnie." He hands the soft scarf over to Sehun. "I'm sorry I can't drive you...but stay. I mean, stay. For the night. You're here, anyways."

 Sehun blinks, reaching out for the scarf, and lowers his gaze towards the floor. "No it's alright, I can take a taxi." He pulls out his phone and waves it around. "I just wanted to walk you up here. I got my favorite taxi company on speed dial."

 Luhan shakes his head. "No, I'd feel like shit if I made you take a bus late at night," he says, tugging at Sehun's arm, and he avoids Sehun's face because right now, Luhan's sleepy and all he can think of are how soft Sehun's lips were against his neck last week, despite being chapped. 

 Luhan presses the pass code on the number pad,  _0520._ "Really, hyung, I should go home." 

 "It's late." Luhan dumps his wallet and phone on the side table and hooks his jacket on the hanger, not needing to look back to see if Sehun could find his slippers and the space on the hook that was just for him. "It's Sunday tomorrow. You're fine."

 Sehun's standing there at the door still, finally in slippers and just in the bare tee shirt and fingers hooked between the belt straps of his jeans. His hair shifted over to the side a little bit; because of the wind outside and the rushing of stairs, despite Luhan insisting that Sehun takes the elevator whereas Luhan could take the jog upstairs. 

 Sehun had refused, of course. 

 He's still standing there, resting his back against the door when Luhan comes back, a yawn in hand and clothing fit for Sehun in the other. "What are you still standing there, you should go get ready and take my bed."

 Sehun holds the folds of clothes in his arms tightly, shaking his head and his soft hair seems to droop and sway with him. It's absolutely lovely. "I can take the couch, since you're already letting me stay here."

 Luhan's shoulders slumps, and he rubs at his eyes against his own will, because he's fucking tired and god fuck this week. "No, Sehun-ah, just take the bed."

 "I'm fine with the couch."

 "We can take the bed—" Luhan stops, because there's a sadness in his eyes in intervals, because it's on and off with something else. Something else. There's a lost look of vulnerability, and it's distorted in a pool of a sweet brown hue. 

 Sehun shifts a bit so he's not leaning against the wall, but he still looks smaller than Luhan, even though he's a few centimeters taller. " _That may be a bit more difficult for me,_ " he says in a low voice, clutching the two pieces of clothing tightly against his chest in white knuckles that fades and recharges again. 

 _Difficult_. Difficult, so Sehun does spend a while in the bathroom and there's running water in the faucet and splashes. Luhan's curled up against the blanket and pillows, and he hasn't changed aside from slipping into sweats instead of jeans that digs into his thighs. Tiredness is still a thing in him, except he can't fall asleep, because the gears in his head is whirling too loud and there's too much talking. 

 The faucet stops and the bathroom door open, and Luhan, who never fully shuts his door, can see the hallway lights flickering off, and there's a quiet goodnight from Sehun that slips in between the door crack and the bundles of blankets and miniature pillows. And it stays there, for awhile. Because when Sehun says good night it's not the same as it was before, because it lacks something. It lacks the wholeness of it, and all of Sehun. It lacks him.

 Luhan rests his hands under his head, so they won't start clawing at his palms again, not tonight.  _I'm sorry._

_  stupid _

_  stuPID _

_  that monster hasn't gotten over you because he's gay— _

_  Don't talk about him like that. _

_  Don't. _

 He falls asleep one hour later, when he hears no more rustling in the living room, and he hopes the couch is comfortable, because he is sorry.  

 It's difficult for him, too.

➳➳➳

Sehun leaves before Luhan wakes up, with a ripped piece from the newspaper—Luhan never reads it anyways—and in a red sharpie he had wrote,  _thank you hyung, i made you breakfast~. p.s i went through your fridge sorry_

 Breakfast for Sehun meant a big bowl of rice and a plate of kimchi and reheated fish that had soy sauce glazed over it. Luhan blinks groggily before rubbing at his eyes again with the back of his sleeves. He never was one to eat too much in the morning, saving more so for lunch and dinner, because breakfast was hurried made coffee at a shop or a home. Usually, breakfast is bubble tea with cartoon scribbles on it. 

Luhan plops down with chopsticks in hand, not exactly ignoring the disappointing feeling in his chest when Sehun's not around in the mornings for them to eat breakfast together. Because Sehun had left early, and the blankets on the couch were folded neatly and reorganized pillows. 

   


9:21 AM.

Luhan: why didn't you stay for breakfast?

Sehunnie: i had somewhere to go, sorry hyung （´＿｀)

   
 Luhan jumps when Sehun replies so quickly. And Sehun wasn't like Yixing or Taemin, who took forever to reply because they either had lost their phone or saw the message and just ignored it. He's glad, that Sehun doesn't keep him waiting for text messages, but this was remarkably fast as he barely clinked together his chopsticks. 

Okay, he typed back easily, thank you for the food. Luhan stares at the big bowl that stares right back at him, white grains of small eyes in a bowl where the ceramic rim is lined with decors. 

 He resists the urge to press the green call button, even though he wants to hear something, someone, or just Sehun.

➳➳➳

 Sundays are boring, and he knows that. The beginning of a dull week sometime starts off with a bowl of hangover soup or curled up against the sofa and tracing the crinkles in the leather with his fingers. But he's not in a terrible hangover today, thank god, but he is curled up against the sofa, blanket draped around small shoulders and a notepad in his lap. 

 Write down what you want to talk about, Hyunjae had suggested. And he should, as he always did every time there was a visit to the clinic that was always void of colors and settled with white and dark mahogany desks that harbors stacked up medical papers and a binder full of patients' names. 

 Out of one of all those pages of reasons and medications and all the things that drove him to stress—there is Luhan. The same photo from high school that Ryeowook always flipped to; though he knows Luhan and Luhan knows how many cracks there are in the corner of that clinic. 

 And he knows of the metallic file cabinet that holds smaller binders, each of their own. Luhan's binder was green, a little stick on the side that states, HAN, LU, and a series of numbers that he could never figure out, out of the several years he's been there. 

 Luhan tosses his head back, sinking into the back of the couch as he clicks the pen constantly, letting his eyes flicker around the ceiling, at the fan, lights, and back. Wednesday, it's the same as the other appointments. Ryeowook doesn't change much, except for a new hairstyle or higher and sharper cheekbones from late night appointments and therapy sessions. Dr. Ryeowook's always saying how much Luhan has changed, too, between their prior appointment and two months later.

 He doesn't have to see Ryeowook every month anymore. 

 Luhan brings his eyes back down at the blank notepad, the sheets that ends up typed up on the computer and tucked away in his green binder. He always wrote them in Chinese, though, because Ryeowook can read it and it feels, it feels private. Like there's nobody important to read at his anxious handwriting that speaks of a darker hue than the desk in the clinic. 

 He stays like that for a while, until it's noon and his legs feels heavy and detached at the ankle. It's three in the afternoon, when Luhan finally sits up, and with a fountain pen, he writes in small words, and it's only a few.

_Sun Wei._

_Sleep_

_Me._

 He tucks the manila tinted note away in an envelope, that will be opened on a Wednesday morning by a man whose white jacket is a sharp contrast against the big black chair. 

 Luhan stands up to stretch a bit and scroll a little bit on his feed, before tucking his phone away on the couch, knowing he'll be looking for it all over the place later, because he forgets. He had sent Sehun a few handfuls of gifs and stickers, and videos to Baekhyun and Kris, confirming that he did not transform into a hermit crab overnight

 There's a balcony, every apartment had one. Except Luhan doesn't dare to step foot outside, because seeing how high he is makes his head spin and his legs on the verge of collapse. The balcony was for Hyunjae to display flowers and whenever Jongdae needed a smoke—he smokes less now, though. 

 He pulls the curtains aside, the ones that usually shield the height away from him. Luhan, in a big sweater that makes him look so small, he stares outside the sliding glass; the view of cloudy skies that hinders the buildings; all shut to keep out the cold. 

 He lowers himself against the sliding door, pulling his legs in so his chin is resting on his knees. The harsh fabric of his pants dig into his skin, but Luhan couldn't care less. Instead, he breathes in the colorless air that bares no scent, and Sun Wei makes lonely company. Luhan leans back a little bit so the curtains brushing against his spine and he shivers, because the glass is cold and there's fog. 

 Removing a hand from his own clutches, he starts to draw on the glass, in messy words and even messier faces. 

   


➳➳➳

Wednesday appears in dysmorphic blurs of Seoul streetlights that eerily seems to sound like Beijing, especially when he opens the window and let himself fall asleep to the honks and car screeches. Even if he was to wake up in an hour because sleep never seemed to stay well with him, Luhan liked the way that his face are stained with the colors from the flashing ads and buildings from outside, because he feels colorful before his eyelids make a final performance.

 He's up again though at the point of 3 AM, dragging heavy feet through the carpet and pulling at his collar because it feels stuffy. Luhan doesn't bother turning on the lights, only sitting against the board of his bed with blankets and pillows caved into hollow rib cages and dainty fingers that counts the hours again. His fingers are also keeping track of the sharp juxtaposition between the lurking hue on the side where he sits and the other, where the window is open, there's life. 

 10 o'clock—7 hours from now, and the thought of manila papers and sharp cheekbones makes him nauseous, because he always comes out feeling ill, hateful, and self-pity. He hated the last feeling the most, because it's a sticky kind of feeling that stays on the back of his shoes, no matter how hard he scrubs. 

 Phone in hand, he clicks on Sehun's name, and types a few words. He's not sending them, because it's early and Sehun should sleep comfortably without the notifications from a boy who broke his heart and pretends. He's typing things, things that blend in nicely with the stark colors in deteriorating Seoul. Things, like  _I'm sorry, I need you right now, hello,_  and  _我爱你, 吳世勳。_

 He definitely doesn't send any of them.

 There's not much of a difference when the sun starts to rise; taxis already cluttering around the road and the room smells like cigarettes again, even if Luhan wasn't a smoker and didn't want to be one. He had wanted to try, when he was in his first year of college and saw how it fitted between Jongdae's lips like it was meant for him. Luhan wanted it to be for him, too. Except Jongdae had swatted his hands away and said not to smoke, because it's an addiction and that the idea of cancer sticks was a contrast to Luhan. Because cancer sticks were dying and he wasn't.

 Except Jongdae wasn't so sure about that last part. Luhan wasn't sure, either. 

 Hyunjae's up, and he knows because she sent him a photo of the sunrise and a scatter of virtual hearts and encouragement. And so was Yixing, because his phone rings, and it's Yixing first. 

 "Hello?"

 "Hi, Luhannie," Yixing sounds sleepy. He always did, anyways. "I wasn't sure if you were awake."

 Yixing was that Chinese boy that sat in the back of their study session, who smiled at Luhan and whispered answers in Chinese because Luhan couldn't understand much. Yixing was also the one who comforted him when he cried, never asking why. Yixing, Yixing was also the boy who introduced Hyunjae to a distant Luhan, though they had met long before Yixing introduced her, because she brought flowers to the clinic on the days Luhan came. 

 "I'm awake, hi Yixing-ah." Luhan's sitting in front of his closet, the tawny light pouring in from both of his windows, and he traces the outline of his shadow that was in his reach. "I'm almost always awake."

 "Has it gotten worse?" Yixing's voice is etched in worries, and Luhan cracks a smile, imagining a very sleepy Yixing cradling his unicorn plush, with a frown drawn on thin lips. "It wasn't always this bad, what happened?"

 Luhan shifts his legs around so he's cross legged. "It's not as bad. I still get a few hours of sleep. It's just that...I got a lot on my mind, you know?" 

 "You'll talk to Dr. Ryeowook, right?" Yixing stifles a yawn, but Luhan can still hear it. "Tell him what's on your mind."

_ I don't if I can. _

_  try just try try and i'll show you what happens _

_  i'm here always heRE _

_  Please leave. _

 "Yeah. I will." Luhan makes short promises of eating a big breakfast and dressing warmly, because those are promises he makes everyday. It's getting louder outside and inside, so he staggers to heavy feet and pries up the closet, to look for his best clothes. Luhan has never failed to make a good impression at the clinic, because he'll come in looking fine, and leave looking normal. Though it's a different story when he kicks off his shoes at home and there's a case of the more expensive soju waiting for him by bare feet. 

 Besides, if he looks nice, he'll look normal.

_ you're not norMAL _

_  you're vile and disgusting; just pretty pretty pretty _

_  Stop. _

 It's so loud, he thinks. 

   


➳➳➳

There's an issue with holding up Yixing's promise, because breakfast tastes bland and just sits in his mouth. Luhan forces down a mouthful, before coughing and the feeling of it stuck in his throat had him push the small rice bowl away. He won't eat this morning. 

Instead, he drinks a lot of water, because now his mouth is dry and he can't rid himself of the awful feeling, except he knows, and he will continue to acknowledge it. Luhan drinks too much; and there's a choked splutter and the weak grasp on the mug handle. 

 He's dressed nice, in a button down shirt and combed back hair that leaves no room except for impeccable traits. Luhan would've looked nicer, if it wasn't the color splash of dark purple under fragile skin and eyes that's threaded with red. 

 Like Sunday, only a few days ago—he's sitting against the sliding door of the balcony, enjoying the slight contradiction in the moment. The irony of heights and a man slumped against the door that keeps him from falling. 

 It's raining. 

 And Luhan doesn't have to open his eyes know that there are people running around in yellow umbrellas; students squealing and laughing as it rains. He squeezes his eyes shut, pulling his knees in closer to his chest, because it's raining. Luhan pulls out his phone, staring mindlessly at the message from his boss about _good luck_ , and the edits he'd need to wrap up when he gets back from work. 

 Luhan's pulling at the curtains as he rings Jongdae's number, and he can see in the corner of his eye, a few desperate raindrops splattering against the glass, the wind hacking itself into the rain. 

 "Jongdae," Luhan's voice sounds much clearer than when he was talking to Yixing, the heap of sleepless burdening. 

 There's a rustling and a clutter what Luhan assumes are dishes, before Jongdae replies cheerfully. "Luhan-hyung!" there's more noise, but it's lessening as Jongdae moves away. "Good morning, when is your appointment?" 

 Luhan tucks the dress shirt in more, so it's neater. "Soon," he replies, and his back is facing the balcony now. "It's raining."

 There's a bit of silence, but it's not total silence; the sound of bustling and people still present. "Yeah, it is. You can't drive then, right? Do you need one?" Luhan can't drive in the rain, because his head aches and he always feels light headed. Luhan usually avoids going out when it rains, because it's not safe for someone to drive when their mind is gutted by everything. 

 "Aren't you busy with the diner?" Luhan asks quietly, wiggling his toes around in his feet because they fell asleep. "I don't want to pull you away from work..."

 "Ttch. We're friends, hyung. Best friends if you're feeling sappy. I can leave the restaurant to Jongin—scratch that, I'll leave it to Eunhyuk." Eunhyuk is Jongdae's family friend, who was the handy bucktooth guy who taught Jongdae on how to not burn soup. "I'm driving you, okay? Don't even think about driving."

 "Okay."

 "But what happened to Hyunjae?" Jongdae's phone was pressed closer to his lips than to his ears, Luhan can tell. 

 He swallows, and tilts his neck a bit so the collar's not tickling the skin that stretches over his apple and jawline. Luhan had specifically told Hyunjae he'd go alone, but when really—Luhan just didn't want to go with her. "I don't really feel like facing her right now," he replies in a low voice, and it doesn't crack because he doesn't say much. To which, Jongdae doesn't reply except with an _okay, bye hyung,_ and all is silent. 

 The world never really reacted kindly to people who couldn't be loved by the right people. 

 Luhan's sitting at the dining table in his pea coat, the same one he wore when he went touring with Sehun in Seoul. He had it washed though, so it doesn't smell anything like street food and cable cars that confined both him and Sehun. It just smells like soap. 

 Jongdae knocks on the door, before letting himself in because all his friends knew the pass code. He smiles gleefully at his best friend, before shaking the rainwater out of his hair, careful to only getting it on the welcome mat. "Luhan-hyung, your personal taxi has arrived."

 "Now you're just making me feel bad." Jongdae laughs loudly, and Luhan thinks it's a bit too loud for the late mornings, but he chuckles and stands to his feet, clutching the envelope in his hand tightly. "Thank you, Jongdae-ah, for driving me." Jongdae was quick to dismiss Luhan, but his smile was so warm that Luhan's chest felt at ease. 

 "Have you eaten yet?" Luhan hesitates, and the umbrella in his hand stops swaying. 

 "I don't think I can eat right now, I'd throw up if I did." He replies slowly, deliberately, dryly. "I'd throw up." 

 Jongdae's quiet only for a few seconds, but it sounds like forever. "That nervous?" He reaches out to give a light squeeze on Luhan's shoulder, offering a smile that's void of sympathy, because everyone knows Luhan would rather die than be sympathized with. 

 "I always am," Luhan says, and gives a  _real_  smile to his friend, even it was a little bit frayed at the corners and it wavers just a bit. "I'll eat later, okay? Let's go, so you can get back to work and—I can get over with this."

 Luhan does his best to hold the umbrella both him and Jongdae, the two of them hurrying to the car without smashing feet into murky puddles. 

 Luhan expected the blast of pop music right when Jongdae turns on the engine, chuckling when Jongdae does a little dance in the seat, while strapping the seat belt over himself, and Luhan does the same. 

 The rain pools over the window like gossamer, the windshield wipers hustling it aside, and Luhan watches the rain splatter and crash against some other car. He shuts his eyes after, though, the throb of a headache that pulses near his brow. He groans into the side door, tapping his fingers against the envelope that rests in his lap. "We're almost there, hyung, can you handle the headaches until then?"

 "It's not that bad, not really." Luhan murmurs, his eyes peeling back and staring ahead at blurry Seoul streets and a whirlwind of colors that goes by slower when he passes them. "Just really fucking annoying." 

 Ryeowook's office resides in the Yongsan district, sandwiched between an internet cafe and the antique shop that Luhan got his vases from. There was also this small soju tent down the street, around the corner, that was away from the eye of professional ass fucks and business propaganda. It was where Luhan plopped down as a teenager out of teenage angst, tearing off pieces of chicken and had Baekhyun sweet talk to the ahjumma to get them a glass of soju.

 There had been a special seat where Luhan would eat after the appointments when it was more of a weekly thing; in the corner where his face is hidden, only the bend of his back and a backpack stuffed with medical stuff he didn't bother to read until the next morning. The tent had closed though, when he was about 22. Luhan never got to thank the ahjumma for alleviating his thoughts with a couple shots of soju that he knew was watered down for his sake. He just pretended not to know. 

 "What are you thinking?" Jongdae asks, keeping his eye on the road and craning his neck a little bit when the rain got too much for his windshield. "You have that sort of constipated I'm-thinking face." 

 "I do not look constipated when I think." Luhan deadpans. "I was just thinking about how things were when we were in that awkward teenage to adults phase. You know? Dilated soju and getting drunk off that." Jongdae barks a laughter, and there's a gleam in his eyes, Luhan notices, most likely remembering their memories. 

 "I miss those, but yet I don't," Jongdae finally replies, turning his head a bit so he can look at Luhan, then back at the road. He doesn't say more, but he doesn't have to. Because that was when teenage angst wears down grudgingly, and they're all piled with the next stage, desperately grasping for whatever left they had. Because it was a stage where Jongdae started to smoke more often. Because, it was when Kris broke up with the girl he thought he'd marry, and believes he won't be able to love anymore. He still thinks that. 

 Because it was when Luhan gasped for breath at night, screaming for his aunt but he was in the dorms now; and Chanyeol was sleep deprived and scrambling to protect the screaming roommate. Because Luhan had nearly destroyed himself. Because it was when things were at its worst. Because they weren't kids anymore. 

 "It gets better, right?" Luhan asks, his voice stifled by sharp needles and a mournful mourner. "It's getting better, isn't it?" The atmosphere wasn't great, the rain loud and beating against windshields and side doors.

 "Yeah, it's getting better." The seat belt is too tight. "It is better."

 "That's such a platitudinous thing to say."

 Jongdae snorts, freeing a hand to swat at Luhan. "You asked a platitudinous question." Jongdae rolls down his side of the window, so a few raindrops could splatter against his cheeks and Luhan scoffs, watching his friend get cooled down by racing rain. "You need to ask specific things, hyung."

 "Like what?"

 "Hmm," Jongdae taps his fingers against the wheel. "Like...do you wear your heart on your sleeves type of thing? I don't know, philosophical kind of stuff." 

 Laugh erupts between the two, Luhan leaning over to swat him with the umbrella. "Well, I'm not the type to wear hearts on sleeves."

 Jongdae arches his brows. "Then where, your cheek?"

 "No," Luhan shakes his head. "In shackles.”

 They're close to the clinic, and Luhan can tell by the stores he's so familiar with, like the toy store that did exceptionally well during the Christmas seasons. There is also that rent-a-bike shop next to the boutique that Hyunjae always dragged him into. 

 Luhan sucks his breath in, and the envelope trembles a bit in his hand.

_ tell him I DARE YOU _

_  Let me. _

 "Call me when you need me pick you up, okay?" Jongdae says when they're pulling up outside, and Luhan's rib cage collapses into a pile of rust. Luhan nods weakly, before shutting his eye for a long time, and all he sees is Sun Wei.

_No._

 Because Sun Wei's picture distorts and breaks, and all there is Sehun that he sees; sweet smiles and sharp eyes.   
   
 Sehun. 

 Luhan's gripping onto the door handle so hard that he would've broken it if he held onto it younger. Finally, he pulls on it, stepping out on shaky legs and and shaking open his umbrella. 

 "Hyung?"

 Luhan stands under the umbrella, in his pocket was the paper. "Yeah?"

 "It's okay to open up." Jongdae says, and he looks a little bit perplexed and his fingers are all knotted up. " _It's okay,_ you know? We love you a lot, and you're my best friend for God's sake. And well, I...I just want to be a best friend, a good one to you."

 Luhan hesitates, and his grip on the umbrella loosens; and it's not a death grip anymore. The lines around his mouth fades, and he's smiling a bit. "I want to be a good best friend, too." He looks back at the clinic, elegant flower pots visible from the window. "Thank you, Jongdae."

 "Bye, okay hyung? Open up, it doesn't have to be too much."

 "Okay." 

   


➳➳➳

 There's a very cold feeling in the waiting room. 

 There seems to be more and more selections of pamphlets in the shelf as he comes, and more and more people taking them. There's no imperfections in the room; and he can only find them on the walls of Ryeowook's office. But in the waiting room, there seems to not a speck of dust on the leather couches, and the magazines and newspapers for read are all stacked up neatly on the side tables.

 He wishes he'd stick out; he wished he didn't blend in so well with the scenery of modern depression in a waiting room for hell. 

 Rubbing his palms together, he starts to count the photo frames on the wall, though he knows there's still 9. 

 "Mr. Lu?" Luhan straightens, smoothing his thumb over the fold of the envelope; locking eye contacts with the woman at the desk, who looks undesirably happy during a rainy day and in a depression clinic. 

 "Yes," Luhan replies quietly, standing up and smoothing down his dress shirt and dusting off imaginary dust. "That is I." 

 "Dr. Ryeowook is waiting for you, down the hall in the,—"  _yes, I know. Down the hall and take a left, and mind the little step next to the flower pot. I know and I know so much and too much._

 "Thank you." 

 Luhan leaves the wet umbrella in the waiting room, and trudging his feet slowly because they're weighed down by something. _Something_. And that something most definitely doesn't want to face a man who probes at his skin and reckons he's sad. That something is Sun Wei, and he is sad. 

 There's that foreign feeling Luhan always feels when he's in these halls. The long hall eerily calm and warmly lit by tinted lights that seems to be of peaches and yellowish orange. The wall; painted with a maroon that dispatches itself from the idea of just a color to affecting his mood. Because now, he feels heavy and anchored to the dark and light hall, a beautiful juxtaposition that eased his mind beforehand. It's foreign.

 Mind your step. Luhan's careful to step over the little step, and taking a quick glance at the flower pot that slowly grows. Reaching on, he notices how white his knuckles are, before he turns the door handle.

 All is gone, the facade, the boy who masqueraded as a man. It's gone, and there's only a green binder with a fading photograph that he never wants to update because updating meant he is still here, in the same damn place he's been in for 10 years. 

 It's 2005 again, and it always is, whenever Luhan's in this room. 

 He feels incredibly small, like a school uniform that's a bit too big—except he's in a dress shirt and jeans that speaks of early noon in the washing machine. 

 Dr. Ryeowook's cheekbones have gotten sharper. 

 Luhan sucks his breath in, and it comes out in rattling intervals, the first breath short and the one that follows borders on a gasp and the lack of. He's back to counting the cracks in the corner again, for two hours or more. It's 2005 again. _It's 2005._

 "Luhan," Ryeowook pulls off his black-rimmed glasses, his voice unnerving and unraveling, but yet so sweet and filled with the sort of comfort someone could find in stimulants. His presence; in a bright white coat and a beautiful sort of blue sweater vest, he himself remains as a stark contrast against the room. It's a headache of uppers and downers, the kind of uppers that made him laugh until he cries; the kind of downers he stopped using because Jongdae had slapped him and screamed at him,  _"get back to your fucking senses"._

 Luhan dips his head in a polite manner, and he's tugging at his sleeves because he feels so exposed. 

 "It's nice to see you."  _It's nice see you alive._  Ryeowook offers a bittersweet smile, before gesturing towards the couch. Dr. Ryeowook rises from his seat, straightening his coat and moving towards the stainless steel fridge. "Are you thirsty? Hungry?"

 Luhan casts his eyes down at his hands, which are a pasty white around the knuckles, and a blooming red splotch of flesh at the palms. "No," he replies, and it comes out strained and weak. Ryeowook pauses, before reaching into the fridge anyways, grabbing a bottle of purified water, setting it down on the glassy table. 

 His eyes flickers, gazing at Ryeowook's desk, cluttered by a mass of file folders and stacked up papers; a computer monitor that's opened to no tab, and Luhan's green binder opened to the middle. There's a whole lot of neat scribbles in the binder, and Luhan's mind plummets to the thought of bubble tea and scribbled cartoons on them. 

 He feels empty.

 "It was raining, did you get here alright?" Dr. Ryeowook asks curiously, sitting his own bottle of water down before nestling himself in between comfort pillows in the seat across Luhan. And Ryeowook was a man who knew a lot, knows a lot, thinks too much, but not everything. 

 Maybe he'd been better off—telling Dr. Ryeowook everything. Maybe he'd be better. He would've, could've. Except he never did, and he wonders if he could. _Can._ "My friend, Jongdae, drove me." Luhan replies, and he's looking anywhere except at sharp cheekbones and the man who now has the green binder in his hand. 

 "That's good, reaching out to friends is good."

 Luhan's throat burns, and he blinks desperately up at the ceiling, hoping that he doesn't throw up. 

 "You look healthier, Luhan." Ryeowook beams at him, completely oblivious to how close Luhan is to fainting. "Are things at work going good?"

 "Yeah."

 "That's good." Ryeowook flips to the back of the binder, stopping at a page that's casts in tiny font. He looks up, frowning a little bit. The lines around his lips flaws the near perfect skin of the doctor. "Relax, Luhan. You can relax now, okay? I'm not a stranger."

 Luhan nods, swallowing his saliva before parting chapped lips. "I know." He cranes his neck, before clearing his voice. "I've known you for as long as I've known my friends. That's a long time, it's...it's really long." Ryeowook doesn't say anything. "10 years is a whole lot too much for recovery."

 Ryeowook reaches out to pat Luhan's hand comfortingly. "Some people don't really recover," he says quietly, before retracting his hand. "The road to recovery is a long one." Luhan's hands feel cold, so he shifts enough so he's sitting on his hands. Ryeowook pulls out a paper and a long fountain pen with his name embed in it. "Let's discuss your sleep situation first, before moving on."

 Luhan doesn't say anything.

 "Do you keep track of your sleep like I asked you?"

 Luhan sucks in a harsh breath, sinking perfect rows of front teeth into the victim of a lower lip. "It takes a while to fall asleep, like I've said. Like I've said for the past years." He hadn't meant to come out bitter, but Ryeowook always seemed to expect a different answer every time; an answer that Luhan can't afford with any shiny coin or a limb. He can give a different answer today, though. "Four hours," he swallows his words. "Sometimes more, sometime less."

 Ryeowook writes in the margin between the past record—his last one was 02 September. 

 "Doctor," he starts, but the last few letters of his breath falters and it doesn't go unnoticed by the man. 

 "Yes?"

 "Insomnia has no cure, right?"

 Ryeowook frowns. "Not medically." He taps the pen against the armrest. "Why? Don't tell me you're going to try to get papers for sleeping pills again." Ryeowook's lips are flat and the skin between soft brows are furrowed and crinkled. Dr. Ryeowook has a couple more years on Luhan, but like Luhan, looks younger. Ryeowook was an intern at the clinic when Luhan came in a fit of shrieks and a tongue of a criminal to himself. Ryeowook knows a lot, he thinks.

 "No, I'm not," Luhan says quickly. "I just—there's some nights I sleep really well. It felt... _it felt nice._ Sleeping the whole time. I didn't wake up in the middle of the night and there's no bad dreams." He's rambling, his cheeks flushed and his skin feels entirely cold. 

 Ryeowook pushes his glasses up higher his nose, eyebrows raised. "Is something the cause of your good night sleeps?"

 There's the smoothing whirl of the fan, accompanied a twin of lights that bares the sun's liar down on them. There's dew forming on the plastic bottle that still remains untouched, and a white envelope that's a bit too transparent, revealing the egg shelled color paper inside. The air is only thick for Luhan. "Yeah, someone."

 The air gradually moves and the entire room feels stuffy. Luhan wonders how many depressive psychosis boys and girls Ryeowook deals with everyday, because there's a whole lot of binders in the cabinet, and Luhan's green one is just stuffed in between another boy's or girl's. "Is this someone special to you?" He offers a small smile. "I feel like we're not talking about my cousin here."

 Luhan stares at his shoes, the knots in his mouth suffocating. "We're not," he whispers. And he doesn't expect a reaction from Ryeowook, because he was a subtle type of man. He doesn't get one, anyways. "It's not Hyunjae, it's not."

 Ryeowook leans in, and he doesn't look so professional anymore. He's hunched over; the flawless coat now honing crinkles and wrinkles. Because Ryeowook isn't so far away, there's the noticeable dark circles and lines under his eyes of aging too early. "Luhan, you can literally say anything in this room." Ryeowook's voice doesn't lose the sleek, modern tone to it though, but it's a bit more open. 

 "I know that," Luhan says tiredly. "It's just a bit hard."

 "I know."

 "It's just that I sleep full nights with them there, but there's no cure to insomnia, right?" Luhan looks at Dr. Ryeowook, whose face is free of any disapproving or any negativity. Maybe that's just a given, with a face like Ryeowook. 

 Ryeowook smiles, and its a cracked one and it looks human. "Like I said, not medically." He hums, tapping his pen against the joints of his fingers. "But someone else? Yes, yes it can work."

 Luhan's neck isn't searing hot now, his mind cooled down and there's no sign of Sun Wei. It's nice, he thinks, to have only the whirl of the fan as his only opponent in thoughts. Ryeowook asks a few more questions, a few quick flips of paper and writing neatly in small margins. Each appointment was the same. Ryeowook in a clutter of papers and an endless supply of writing utensils asking the same questions. 

 "Do you remember what I've told you to fit in a few more hours of sleep?" Ryeowook asks, scribbling something down on a sticky note. 

 Luhan sighs, and rubs at his eye tiredly until there's colors. "Yeah, yeah." He remembers 2009 when it first started getting bad. A whole lot of screaming because there's no one to stop him, his aunt out of the city for the night. A whole lot of crying and a whole lot of lost whimpers when he takes in one or two of eszopiclone because that's all there was in the cabinet. "Almond milk and keep the room dark."

 His room is dark whether he likes it or not, and he can pretend wine's the same thing as milk.

 "Don't forget about the white noise machine I gave to you—do you use it, Luhan?" Ryeowook looks up from his papers, arched brows.

 "Yes." _No,_ no he doesn't, because no matter how loud he keeps the machine on, Sun Wei breaks it and there's only a jumble of red and green wires on the floor. There's no room for white noise. 

 "Okay," Ryeowook murmurs, finishing up some notes and Luhan wants to leave.

 "Could I go to the bathroom?" Luhan asks weakly. "It's a bit stuffy here."

 Ryeowook blinks. "Yes, of course." He points to the door behind him. "Take your time, Luhan."

The bathroom in Ryeowook's office is cold. There's a sleek soap dispenser and a stone sink basin; curved just enough for water to splash into. It's really cold, because there's goosebumps on Luhan's arms as he rolls up his sleeves, pushing his hand under the faucet so hot water finds a refuge in flawed flesh. 

 He lathers his neck, face, and arms in water, trying to rid himself of the awful feeling that makes him feel like shit. "Just a few more hours, Luhan," he whispers, staring in the reflection of a stranger. He almost laughs, bringing a finger up at the dark circles that found a home in fragile skin under dull eyes. There's the scar under his lip, his short finger nails fitting in the cut.

 2004 was when he got that scar.

_Bring my life back._

 Luhan leaves the bathroom with cooler arms that has a light film of water dew. His ears are ringing by whatever fight Sun Wei is putting up now, his hands shaking.

_ reMEMBER REMEMBER _

_  I have you luhan i have you _

_  Let me go. _

Ryeowook looks back at him, before raising his brows, and lips parted in a half-spoken word that's unheard by both ears.

 "Luhan...?"

 Luhan tilts his head, confused before it dawns on him. Quickly pulling down his sleeves hastily; some of the buttons getting stuck, and there's a scream stuck in his throat.

_ i hate this I hate this I hate this, leave me alone. _

_   Never  _

 Ryeowook's quick to his feet and stumbles over to Luhan, grabbing both of his hands desperately. "Luhan, stop, _stop!_ " Ryeowook's shaking him by the shoulders, his eyes digging into Luhan's. Ryeowook doesn't look so professional anymore.

 He doesn't realize he's crying. 

There's a rawness to his cries; like an open wound in dire of stitches. He cries and he cries, as if the ferocity would bring something back.  _Bring my life back._  He slumps against Ryeowook, tears soaking into the doctor's coat and leaving water stains. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," there's a hush hush from Ryeowook, who's stiff against Luhan weight, because Luhan's legs aren't working anymore. "I'm sorry."

 "Luhan, stop," Ryeowook says, patting the man on the shoulder comfortably. " _It's not your fault._ "

 Luhan sobs louder, and his throat burns and his fingers are twitching against his sides limply. Ryeowook half carries and half drag him to the couch, grunting as he pulls Luhan up against the couch, resting his head against a pillow. The bottle of water pushed into Luhan's hands, and Ryeowook stares down at faint drunk lines, the graze of torn skin that's healing. 

 "I hate these visits," Luhan whispers, hiccuping after a sniffle. "I fucking hate them."

 Ryeowook gives Luhan a light squeeze on the wrists. "I know," he replies quietly. "I don't like them either." Ryeowook shifts a little bit on the ground, knees bent so he's at Luhan's eye height. "Ten years, you know? I watched you grow up for the past ten years."

 Luhan dabs at flushed cheeks and at his watery eyes, before coughing into his sleeveless arms. "I haven't grown much, my face still looks the same."  _I hate it._  

 Ryeowook shakes his head. "You grew a lot. In both senses." Luhan knows what he means, he knows exactly. Luhan winces, remembering Ryeowook as an intern who was signing papers at the front lobby when his aunt was murmuring soothing words into a 15 year old's ear, who was shaking and sobbing a sob so raw, it was a surprise his throat wasn't damaged. 

 There's no talking between him and Dr. Ryeowook for a good five minutes, Luhan clutching his chest to regain a steady breath and Ryeowook slumped next to Luhan instead of across. Ryeowook had asked if it was okay, and if Luhan was comfortable; because most people weren't. Luhan had nod his head, gripping onto his water bottle for stress relief. 

 "Are you ready to talk now?" Ryeowook asks carefully, concern glazed over his eyes that Luhan can see under his glasses. 

 "...Yeah."

 Ryeowook nods, straightening up and clearing his throat. "Do you want to talk? Or we can do questions again, if you'd like."

 Luhan shakes his head, pulling his arms around himself to keep himself at ease. "I don't like questions," he says quietly. "I'll... _I can talk._ "

 "Okay."

 Luhan's breath hitches again, getting in the way of talking. He feels so out of air, gripping the edge of the leather couch with his hands. "Hyunjae thinks I'm relapsing."

 There is silence. 

 "Do you feel as if you are?" 

 Luhan's breathing is stable now. "Is that a rhetorical question?"

 Ryeowook grins, but it looks sad. "It could be, but it would be nicer if it wasn't."

 He turns his head to the side, recounting the few cracks in the corner again. "It's not like that," he says, not looking at Dr. Ryeowook. "It's not the kind of relapse that could mirror 2005." He grimaces, and turns back to Ryeowook who's not taking notes.

 "Go on."

 Luhan spreads his fingers, before clenching them into a fist and _again, again, and again. I'm alive, I'm alive._ "I found the name." Something's stuck in his throat—a scream or a cry, he doesn't really know. "The name to the...the things I hear in my head. It just gets worse at times, when I think of it."

 Everything stops. 

 "Really?" Ryeowook asks, his voice strained with incredulity that was poorly hidden. It's written all over his face, anyways, Luhan can see, on hands and gestures that bears no ideas. Luhan nods slowly and deliberately, balling his hands into fists to keep them from fidgeting. Saying the name was a lot harder than thinking about it; hearing about it. "Could you...tell me?"

 A mind block; his former doctor had said before Ryeowook took him in as his own patient. The kind of block that ignores the names of things, in this case, a rose-head of a cousin who was five years older than him. "It's hard." Luhan's voice is hoarse, but no matter how many sips of water, his tongue feels like sandpaper and his chest is hollow with no love. "It's so fucking hard, but it shouldn't be, right?" He turns to Ryeowook, and looks at him—really look at him, through dim-lit eyes that was so bright on special occasions. 

 Ryeowook's eyes softens. "I know, but I can help." Ryeowook turns his waist towards Luhan, so they're facing each other, one in a drenched dress shirt and the other in a crinkled white coat. "We never made this much progress before—let's keep at it, okay?"

 "Sun Wei." It comes out as a gasp. "孙伟. That's his name." Luhan grabs the pen and sticky note off the table; writing the name in Hangul. " _위 일요일._ "

 Ryeowook peels the sticky note off the pad, his eyes wavering with concern and a thousand questions that burns the space between him and Luhan. He doesn't seem to notice how tired his voice sounds, though his body and his mind knows. But his voice; it was wary and there's too much sadness. 

 Sun Wei was a rosy boy, with pretty hands that held Luhan's down to the park when his parents weren't home; because pretty boys with pretty faces shouldn't get dirty. But Sun Wei was a shush hush case, grin gleaming with the confidence that came with being Luhan's parents' favorite nephew. 

 "And who is Sun Wei to you?" Ryeowook asks, his eyes flickering with a downcast hope and the desperate need to fix a rusty smile on Luhan's face. "And how did you come to this name again?"

 Luhan shakes his head, because there are things that are easier to say; and the other things would have him kissing the Han river. Ryeowook's face falls only for a second, before regaining composure and professionalism. "Isn't the name enough?" Luhan asks softly, his now dried eyes feeling a bit of pain. Just a bit. "Sun Wei, that's a lot."

 "It is a lot."

 "Isn't it?" 

 Ryeowook pinches the bridge of his nose, pushing up his glasses and restraining a sigh. "Does...does this name haunt you, Luhan?"

 " _It took away my life._ " Act of regicide.

 There's no bitterness in his voice though, only the lingering sympathy and self-pity that is truly noticeable to the naked eyes and ears. Because what tongue will tell the majesty that such a life consisted of eating dinner alone every night since age 7 or kissing big boys and small boys behind the snack shop because such a life didn't offer enough? To kiss—to kiss a boy to be loved. To kiss boys in secret because it's a  _shh_  kind of life; behind rich school buildings or the snack store that sold his favorite chocolate bars. 

_ I will be loved.  _

_  I am loved. _

_  LiaR LIAR _

 "What are you thinking about Luhan?" Ryeowook reaches out to rub callous fingers on Luhan's trembling ones, cold from the water earlier and from the air itself. 

 "I'm thinking of dead flowers and sidewalk cracks," he replies nearly instantly, in an inaudible tone that leaves Ryeowook leaning in for confirmation. But Luhan doesn't give any. He rubs his palms together until there is warmth. "I don't feel comfortable talking about what just happened," he says slowly, churning each word through a series of gears and filters. "Hyunjae won't know right?"  _Sehun, Jongdae, Joonmyun, Yixing...everyone, can't know._

 "Everything in this room is confidential." Ryeowook takes a long drag of words, too. "Only you can decide who knows." 

 Luhan nods, feeling a little bit more at ease but not quite. "And I chose you, paid you, too." Luhan grins, but it's really terrible. "Keep my secrets?"

 Ryeowook's eyes are sad, before he adjusts his glasses and scribbles a few more things on his sticky note. "I always had, Luhan."

 

 

   


➳➳➳

   
They're back to boring questions again. 

 "What do you do in your free time, Luhan?"

 "Watch TV, talk to friends, drink."

"Excessive drinking?"

"You know I don't."

 The storm has passed, with new information in his green binder. It happens, sometimes. Most of the appointments go in three hours maybe four with no progress. A frustrated Dr. Ryeowook who shows it through broad smiles and high cheekbones. A tired and sleepy Luhan whose stomach threatens to burst if the appointment didn't end soon. 

 There's a new look in Ryeowook though, a kind of scared-like hope. Because he doesn't know Sun Wei—no one does, really—only does the man know what he did. 

 "How is your fear of heights? Acting up recently?"

 Luhan thinks back to when he really felt intoxicated by sweet pines in a moving cable car, Sehun rubbing soothing palms into the smaller one's back as his breathing is light. "I take the stairs."

 "Anything in particular you enjoy eating now? I know it changes."

 Luhan shakes his head, there's no more effort in him. It's gone and drained. "I enjoy whatever my friends make." He goes on to mumble about Jongdae's restaurant and Kyungsoo, though Ryeowook already knew. It's always the same answer. "I also like...bubble tea."

 Ryeowook blinks. "Bubble tea?"

 "I replaced coffee with it," he says, watching Ryeowook's lips lock up in a better smile. "I like the tastes, and feels." _I also like the shop with a tall boy whose heart shouldn't be mine._

 "Bubble tea is really sweet, that's good." Ryeowook clasps his slim fingers together. "You need more sweet things in life, Luhan."

 _1 more hour, Luhan, just 1._  "Have we covered everything?" He frowns, his eyes feeling heavy and drowsy. Sleep finally catches up. The energy and feelings from earlier had faded, Luhan regretting instantly the second he calmed down, that he ever spoke of Sun Wei. That he broke down in front of Ryeowook. Those are things he regrets, those are things that happened. 

 Ryeowook offers a sympathetic smile. "Not yet."

 Luhan dips his face into the cups of his palms, shutting his eyes. "I'll say things and get it over with, okay? Just ask me your questions and let me go. I'm really tired and I said a shit ton today. I want to go home." Though his voice is muffled, it's hard to ignore how sharp his words are, laced with venom and gloom. "Go ahead."

 Ryeowook takes a deep breath, nodding. "I was told that you aren't taking your medications."

 With a jolt, Luhan staggers to his feet, ripping his jacket off the hook. "Fuck this, you and Hyunjae are just fucking with me." Ryeowook's eyes widens, and he shoots up, pushing out his arms to block Luhan. "Let me go, let me fucking go."

 "You said, Luhan. That I, could ask any questions, and then, you'll go." Ryeowook says slowly, his voice low as if keeping a secret from the waiting room, though the room is sound proof. "This is me, asking a question."

 "I never said I'd answer your damn questions," Luhan growls, "ask away, but I'm not giving shit." 

 " _Luhan!_ " Ryeowook looks upset, sounds upset. His lips set in a thin line that wavers, and his eyes dark and focused on the conflict that sparked Luhan's own eyes. "This isn't a game, your medications aren't a game, Luhan. This is serious." Ryeowook grabs Luhan by the wrist, but he grabs it with such caution and sincerity that it stays limp in his hands. Luhan doesn't pull away just yet.

 "I don't like them." Luhan says flatly, trying to control his voice to keep it from cracking. Or something worse. "You think they're fun and okay for me to take? Take one antidepressant and if it doesn't work—you just increase the dosage and keep increasing it until it eats me up! Do you, Ryeowook, really think this is a long term thing? Do you even actually know how goddamn awful it feels to be on them?"

 Ryeowook drops Luhan's wrist out of his grasp, and he stands there, head hung over a white coat and a name tag that states,  _KIM RYEOWOOK._ "I fucking despise those antidepressants. Popped one and I wanted to smash my head against the wall because it felt so strained. You're a doctor...but do you even know how much you're putting people like me through? People like me, Ryeowook,  _there's so many fucking people like me in this world!_  And each and everyone of them is dying in the inside because of those shitty antidepressants prescribed, I'd rather take uppers and stimulants than touch one of those pills." Luhan spats out in one shout. 

 "Yes, Luhan, there are people like you with your kinds of issues with your kinds of antidepressants. Some of them work so good for them and some go off of them. But the ones that do, would've at least consulted with their doctor. I didn't hear from you one bit about you going off the pill. I heard it from my cousin!" Ryeowook runs a hand through his hair, messing up the perfect look of his, frustration etched in his eyes, lips, cheeks. 

 Luhan's laugh is so humorless, it chills both of them. "Would you have let me?" 

 Dr. Ryeowook hesitates. "I would've gone over with you the pros and cons and help with—,"

 "Bull," Luhan snaps. "You'd say I'm crazy for even thinking about it and just increase the dosage. It's eating me up, doctor. It's eating me up and I feel suppressed, _I'm crazy_ , that's all I would ever hear."

 "No, Luhan." His eyes turn stern and completely serious; frustration and weariness in the doctor's eyes flickers for a moment, and it's off. "It's what that Sun Wei character makes you hear.  _No one thinks you're crazy,_ no one, Luhan."

 Luhan stops struggling. 

 "But he's all I hear..." but that's not true. Because Luhan can also hear how sweet Sehun sounds when he laughs, or the bad jokes he makes in the early mornings. He loves how Sehun's breathing is always sounding out-of-breath when he's too close to his ear. He hears all these things, too. Luhan just can't say that he does.

 "You're lying," Ryeowook says, and there's a smile of some sort. 

 "I guess."

   


➳➳➳

 It's still raining. 

 Luhan sits on the almost dry bench at the bus stop, his body shivering and his hands cold. There's a file folder in his hand, of egg-shelled color and a few splotches of rain. There's a copy of his letter in it—Dr. Ryeowook had made a copy, wanting him to keep a copy. He'll throw it away later.

 Luhan tugs on his scarf and tightens his hat, the sounds of umbrellas popping open and rain boots echoing through his ear. He pulls his jacket in closer, because there's more than just white noises in his head.

_"You're so soft and warm, I don't get how you get sick so easily."_

 Luhan promised Sehun he wouldn't get sick. 

 Pressing his bus card into the scanner, numb fingers and the short of a breath as he slumps into the empty seat in the back. It's still cold, even if there was a pair of jollity students behind him giggling. It's freezing even in all the layers. Breathing against the glass, he shuts his eyes; darting back and forth, up and down in the dark. 

   
_"Don't you hate me?"_

_"Why would I hate you?"_

_"I'm dating your cousin. I'm dating her...and I-I don't love her. I don't."_

_"We can't choose who we love."_

_"But I'm...I'm not—"_

_"I know."_

 

 He holds up his phone and stares at the notifications from his friends, notably Sehun's messages. They are all pictures of Jaehyun and Ten making faces in the camera, goofy smiles and pictures of customers getting eaten up in the bean bag lumps. Luhan cracks a smile, but it feels so strained that he wants to cry, scream, or lash out in throes and heartache. 

 He trudges through the rain when it came to his stop, not bothering with his umbrella. Not caring if the file got wet, because if it did, he'll blame it on the blooming ink and torn wet paper that he didn't read on what problems he has. 

   


➳➳➳

 

 

Jinro's always a favorite among them all; weak enough for Yixing to take a few shots before collapsing against the toilet seat with vomit stains. But Luhan isn't Yixing, and Jinro may take a couple of full bottles for Luhan to dive headfirst into oblivion. And today, he needs to forget a lot of things. 

A bottle to forget Sun Wei, a bottle to forget Ryeowook. A bottle to forget Hyunjae, another for Joonmyun. Two bottles of Andong soju and a bottle or so of Queen's Ale Extra Bitter to forget Sehun. 7 bottles that's heavy in his arm, stashed in between the alcohol is a soaked medical paper of his, stuffed in a disgusting, terrible folder. 

 It's scary to think that small-printed papers with his name on it could relegate him to hell. 

 Stuffing his change in his pocket, he hauls the black plastic bag into the apartment lobby, security giving him an odd look, watching the drenched man slug into the elevator with clinking bottles of soju by his side, swaying in a large bag. He rarely takes the elevator.

  _I deserve to suffer._

_  yes yoU DO pretty boy oh so pretty _

 His chest does a flop and his lips quiver, Luhan bracing himself against the wall as the elevator does a jolt before moving. Luhan squeezes his eyes shut and there's only Sun Wei's giggling and his heavy heart beating against his ears. 

Giggles and laughter follows him home, and he doesn't bother taking off his shoes, jacket, or anything. Screeching chairs and pushing away the tablecloth, he drops the clutter of bottles onto the table, not caring if they break. Ripping the bag apart, he pulls the first bottle out, and pours a messy shot.

 After the fourth one, though, his lips kisses the top, liquor searing his throat dry and his tongue weeps. 

 His apartment lit by nothing, except say for the dim lighting that spots an area or two. A messy pile of blankets on the couch that looks tattered from his angle, and out of place in the colorless place. A drooping plant that has seen better days and better lovers. A coffee table, marred by too many papers and coffee stained mugs. In a way, Luhan paints himself in with his home—drenched and coughing up burning alcohol, miserable and terrified. 

 He paints himself so well that the second bottle appears in his hand quicker than usual. 

 Phone vibrating and vibrating until Luhan can zone it out, Luhan smacks his liquor tinted lips gleefully, his vision a bit blurred and his heart... _his heart_  hurts a lot. The vibrating changes from texts to calls to voice mails, and he laughs harder and harder each time until tears spike at his eyes and leaves dew on his lashes. Luhan laughs the hardest when Sehun calls, and he knows because there's a specific ring tone for him. He laughs too hard, too much. It sounds disgusting, raw laughter that morphs itself into pitch-less sobs within seconds. 

 Luhan slides the empty shot glass across the table, spreading out so there's enough space to lay his head down. When was 11, the dining hall was empty all the time, except for radio of classical music being played in the room next door, his father's furious typing in the office across. When he was 11 and younger and everything was sad but also whole, Luhan liked to listen to the drumming of his fingers against wood, his ears tickled by the sound. Luhan had stopped doing that, though, at age 12, because Sun Wei would rock back and forth on his heels behind Luhan, breathing down on his neck.

 Not much has changed since he was 12, 13 years later in a new country and a new life. 

 Luhan's unscrewing the third or fourth bottle—he's not sure—when there's rapid knocking on the door. He groggily lifts his head, tilting his head to the side because it feels heavy. There's muffled voices and more knocking on the other side, familiar and sweet. "Luhan, hyung are you there?"

 There's a frustrated sigh, too, two voices almost inaudible to his ears. It's only a few minutes and another shot when Luhan can hear the distinct sound of his pass code being punched in. Sehun and Jongdae stumble in, shoulders drenched and patted with water and their hair slicked with rain. 

 Sehun stops to catch his breath, Luhan watching him.  _He shouldn't be here, he shouldn't, he shouldn't._  But here he is, drenched and deprived of an umbrella, black hair that's damp enough to darken even more. He's so beautiful, Luhan thinks, and it fucking kills him in the inside. 

 Jongdae, equally just as much as a victim to the Seoul downpour of December, stares incredulously at Luhan. "You..." he starts, short of breath and advancing towards the terribly lost boy that's buried in his own layers of clothes. Jongdae yanks the glass out of Luhan's grasp, and Luhan whines, and whimpers. "You were  _suppose to call me_! I drove to the clinic after you were suppose to call me! How the hell did you get home?" Jongdae stares down at the mess of napkins and soju spills—a stain on Luhan's sleeve.

 Luhan, quiet and barely sparing a moment to breathe, giggles. "Jongdae-ah, that's a secret!" he brings up a sloppy finger to his lips, fingers cold and chilling his lips. "Sehun might hear." Luhan leans forward and grins, and it hurts so fucking much to smile like that, especially in the same room as Sehun. Luhan shoots him a jaunty wave, and Sehun says nothing, an unreadable expression on his face and a stiff posture. 

 "Luhan!"

 "Ah, Jongdae-ah, you're  _so, so, so_  loud." Luhan mumbles into his hands, pressing his fingers all over his face so it'll chill the rest of his skin, too. 

 "Hyung..." Sehun's voice cracks, his eyes soft and his lips stitched down in a frown. "Hyung...you said you don't enjoy drinking."

 "I don't," Luhan says in a sing-song voice, clasping his hands together. "I don't like it at all. But it helps a lot." He pushes his hands out, smacking the back of his chair and nearly knocking over an empty bottle. "It helps this much!"

 "Sehun," Jongdae turns his head towards the taller one, who's standing there with hands balled into fists into his pocket. "Could you clean up his drinks?"

 "Why is he drinking?" Sehun asks, his voice shaking and there's disbelief in his voice—disappointment.

_  I'm sorry Sehun. _

_  i'll rUIN YOU _

_  RUINS _

_  You already have.  _

 Jongdae's quiet, before Luhan throws his head back, eyes fluttering shut as his mind bounces around in haze and cobwebs. Sehun moves over closer, pale fingers wrapping around the neck bottles, both empty and full. "No!" Luhan reaches out for them, pouting and wincing. " _I need them._ Sehun-ah, I need them to forget." His words slur, but sharp enough that the alcohol in his hands nearly loosens. 

 Jongdae wraps his fingers around Luhan's wrists, as gently as possible. "Luhan-hyung, you should stop drinking," he says quietly, voice thick with something that borders on hurt. "I know, I know those appointments are hard but you can't turn to this all the time."

 Luhan laughs dryly, and all he sees is two Jongdae and a shadowed Sehun in the back, Sun Wei lingering in between the two of them. "Well, isn't it better than nicotine and a whole lot of crushed cigarette packs?" Jongdae flinches, and Luhan wiggles out of his grasp. "You never let me have any, never.  _Never, never, ever._ " Luhan's voice turns giddy, the edges frayed with threats of sobs. 

 "Hyung, _stop_." It's Sehun this time, his eyes harden but his voice strained. "Stop saying things like that, stop doing this!" he holds up the receipt at the store for all those liquor. "You bastard, stop doing this to us, I swear I'm going to—,"

 Luhan tugs at his own strands of hair, Jongdae staring down at his best friend in overwhelming sadness. "Did I worry you?"

 Sehun parts his lips to say something, but Jongdae shakes his head, extending a hand to give Sehun's shoulder a squeeze. "Sehunnie, this is really hard for him right now. We can yell at him tomorrow," he murmurs, but Sehun doesn't take his eyes off Luhan. Luhan shivers, pulling his sleeves over his hands so it covers everything. 

 " _We_?" Luhan's head lifts first, the rest of his body following suit in a clumsy manner. "We, you and..." he jabs a finger at his best friend's shoulder, who stares at him, alarmed and dejected. "Jongdae?  _This_  Jongdae?" Luhan turns to Jongdae with a smile that's seared in noticeable soju and a bit of blood from sinking teeth. His hand falters on Jongdae's shoulder, but he curls his fingers in, digging into his soft palms once more. "Why  _my_  Jongdae? Sehun, he's my best, _best_  friend."

 "Luhan..." 

 Sehun's eyes widens, his hair dripping drops on his skin and neck. He looks so fucking kissable, and Luhan wants to just die. He wants to just die right now. " _Did you already move on?_ " Luhan's arms drop limply to his sides, a few love short of himself. "Is that why you're together?" 

 Sehun drops the bottle, his hands shaking as it clenches into hard fists. Luhan lets out a gasp, and Jongdae jumps, hurrying over to Sehun to move him away from the shattered image of broken green glass. "Luhan!" Jongdae stares at him in incredulity, hard lines around his mouth. "What are you talking about? I called Sehun because I thought he'd know where you were...Luhan, what are you..."

 Something switches off in Luhan's brain, and it's all Sun Wei and shrilled shrieks in the shell of his head. 

 "Sehun-ah," Luhan continues in a rattling voice, clutching his ears with the cave of his hands. Sun Wei is too loud for today. "Don't you like me,  _like like_? Why are you already moving on? You should continue liking me." He takes a few more steps, his limbs feeling like concrete and he feels stuffy in his jacket. "Sehun-ah."

 Sehun stumbles backwards, covering his face with his hands. "Luhan!" Jongdae barks, his face pale and void of color. "Shut up, Luhan." Jongdae lets go of Sehun, who slumps onto the couch, still not saying anything. Jongdae advances towards Luhan, grabbing him by the collar. Luhan laughs, the sound wretched and painful to his ears. He laughs, because even with his collar in Jongdae's fist, there's an underlying wavering to it; a carefulness.  _I'm breakable._ "I don't know what happened with Dr. Ryeowook but you can't just start attacking your friends, Luhan, please," Jongdae murmurs in a low voice.

 Luhan locks eyes with Sehun in the back, and there's something guilty about the sight. Sehun, hunched over with his fingers curled in, covering half of his face and most of his freckles. Damp hair and damp eyes, a sort of hurt and anger that swirls and plasters Sehun in an array of gray. Sehun's eyes aren't too sweet anymore, and it's so dark. 

 "You should leave, Sehun-ah," Jongdae says quietly, offering Sehun a smile. "Thank you for your time...I need to talk to...talk to Luhan." Sehun doesn't say anything still, only rises to his feet in red-rimmed eyes and a film of shock over his face. 

 And Luhan, Luhan wants to look away so fucking bad, but he can't. He can't look away from the betrayal, hurt, and angst in Sehun. It's all too much and all enough—Luhan deserves this sort of pain. 

 

_"It wasn't too terrible at first. My friends thought it was a joke, until I got a boyfriend in high school. And my mom and dad...didn't like seeing my face. And my big, admirable brother, started to pull his hand out of my life, and everything, everything just fucking crashed. My places in recitals disappeared—my friends no longer wanted to be around me in the locker room. Didn't want to sit next to me. Scared that me, a homosexual boy would molest them."  
_

  _I'm sorry._

 "You promised," Sehun says finally, his voice cracked and so thick with tears. "You fucking promised me hyung, you..." lied. Jongdae's grip on Luhan loosens, and Sehun stares at Luhan, and Luhan...Luhan just stands there, taking a beating from Sun Wei and a heartbreak from a sweet, terrible boy. "You make me sound..." Jongdae holding Sehun back tightly by the arms, and Sehun doesn't protests.

 There is a pregnant pause.

 "...like a monster."

   


➳➳➳

 

 

   
Sehun's gone. Jongdae turns around, his eyes bright with a whole lot of things to say. "Luhan!" he shouts, when the door is shut and Sehun's long gone in the elevator. Luhan collapses to his knees on the carpet, dangerously close to the shatter array of glass. 

 "Is...he gone?" Luhan's voice sounds a lot louder when it's just the two of them.

 "Yes," Jongdae breathes into the shells of his palms. "Yes, he's fucking gone, are you happy?"

_ No. I'm terrified. _

 "I'm tired." Luhan murmurs, rubbing at his eyes until they sting. Dropping his hands, he presses one hand down on the glass. There's a sharp pain, and his face contorts in a twist of shock. Jongdae yells, stumbling his way towards Luhan and yank at his hand. 

 "You..." Jongdae breathes out, pressing his warm hand against Luhan's. There's not much bleeding—but there's a big statement that nestles itself between the little drops of bright roses and lines on his palm. There must be something in Luhan's eyes, either depression, loneliness or longing, because Jongdae's eyes softens like candle wax, enveloping Luhan in his arms. 

 "Jongdae...Jongdae I'm s-so tired," Luhan forces out in a stammering voice, digging his fingers into the secure spot on Jongdae's shoulders. "I'm so exhausted."

 He holds him tighter, muffling Luhan's voice and shh-ing him. "I know, I know you are."

 "I said...t-those  _things_  to him."

 "Why?" Jongdae's voice is a lot more alert, but his grip doesn't change on Luhan. "Why did you say those things?" Jongdae isn't much bigger than Luhan himself, but he feels so tiny in his friend's arm, hiccuping and slurring words. "There's things you can say and things you can't," he whispers.

 "I know...I don't know why, but I—" Luhan winces. "I don't know."

 "Was it your intention, to drive Sehun away?"

 Luhan shakes his head, knocking the side of his against Jongdae's ear. "I don't want him to know. God, Jongdae-ah, it fucking kills me everyday...I can't.”

 "He wouldn't," Jongdae says reassuringly. "I...I still don't know, so why would he?" He continues ruefully, before sighing. "Enough, I'm really upset with you and I'll  _probably_  hit you when you're sober, come on. I'm taking you to my place." Jongdae tugs at Luhan, whose eyes are red and his breath hot with a combination of beer and cheap soju, moving his face away from his friend to cough and spit out the uncomfortable feeling. 

 They don't clean up the mess, only fumbling with a band-aid on Luhan's hands and grabbing an umbrella big enough for both of them. 

   


➳➳➳

 

 

 Jongdae had been the first out of all of them to mature. 

 He had lived on his own since he was 17, in a dingy apartment that he fixed up with the help of Joonmyun's grandpa who had a knack for painting and interior decorating. The dingy apartment looked cozier after, Luhan and the rest cramped together in the apartment meant for at most four. Mismatching dining chairs and a whole mass of multicolored pillows when Yixing went through a sewing phase. 

 Jongdae got lonely often as a teen—missing his brother and parents a lot. But he wanted a statement, a point that he could live on his own. Those nights that he did get sad, Luhan was there at his door with a handful of buttery snacks and a sleeping bag. Greasy fingers that covertly wiped themselves on the side of their jeans and a movie in English that they're not paying attention to—often Yixing was there too, though sleeping.

 Jongdae pulls out the biggest pillows and the warmest blankets out of a cabinet that's plastered in finger paints, courtesy of his niece. "You're going to be fucking sick tomorrow, you idiot," he mutters, draping the blanket over the cot and tossing a bunch of pillows onto it. "Hey, Luhan, do you still like your Luffy stuffed toy?"

 Luhan's face feels a lot fresher, thanks to Jongdae smearing a hot towel all over his face, getting rid of tear stains and intoxicating soju lips. But it did nothing to his mood; and the voices and Sehun is still so loud. I'm sorry. "My Luffy toy?" Luhan asks quietly, though he knew what Jongdae meant.

 "Yeah, you always left your stuffed bears and crap over here, kept them here just in case," Jongdae winks, tossing him the Luffy toy that's a bit faded in colors.

 "Uh huh," Luhan says, trying to not have his voice crack. "I kept them here so people wouldn't mistake me for a child."

 Jongdae throws Donald Duck at him, square in the chest. "Oh I see, I'm your scapegoat, huh? You little hyung—,"

 Luhan slips under the covers, resting his head against the pillows, facing the wall instead of Jongdae. He doesn't protest to the stuffed animals though; Luffy tucked in between his cold arms in the tightest grip. "Thanks, Jongdae."

 "For what?" 

 Luhan grip on Luffy tightens to the point were his fingers are numb and his knuckles pasty white. "Being here for me for nearly...10 years."

 Jongdae chuckles, pulling off his wet jacket and scarf. "Has it been that long? Felt like yesterday when I stole my brother's car keys to visit Baekhyun's grandma."

 Luhan smiles into Luffy, pulling everything closer to him. 

 He hears rustling, Jongdae fitting himself into a pair of shoes. "Where are you going?" Luhan asks, voice hoarse and  desperate. He doesn't know if he can stay here alone with just Sun Wei as a voice. 

 There's a long pause. "The restaurant, I just have to wrap things up, I'll be back in a few hours, okay?"

 " _Promise_ , Jongdae?" Luhan pulls himself up, tugging on a pillow and the blankets. "You'll be back, right? Really soon?" 

 "Yes."

 "Because...there's a lot of things I think I have to tell you."

   


➳➳➳

 

 

   
Luhan awakes to the sound of the apartment opening, and Jongdae kicking off his shoes. 

 Luhan rises up from the bed, groggy and his eyes stinging with dryness. There's a mass of stuffed animals on his stomach, the pillows with cute Chinese and Korean sayings patched on the pillowcase. At first, he blinks a few times, pressing a bandaged palm to his forehead, wincing, before remember where he is. Jongdae's place, he remembers, looking around at the wall plastered in pictures of their friends and Jongdae's gaming set on the desk nearby.

 Luhan slips away from the covers, snuggling cold feet into his slippers before dragging the blanket along with him out of the room. 

 "Oh, I was hoping to let you sleep for a few more hours," Jongdae says sheepishly, dropping the large paper bag onto the table. "Either way, I cooked some broths for you and that spiciness you like." He does a once over at Luhan, who's sniffling and clutching the blanket tightly around his shoulders. "Ttch, I knew you were going to catch a cold."

 "Is this what you meant by wrapping things up at the restaurant?" Luhan asks, snuggling himself in one of the chairs. "Thanks, all of it looks great."

 Jongdae frowns. "Are you okay? You look really pale..."

 Luhan shakes his head. "I'm...I'm okay. Let's eat later though, please?" Luhan downcast his eyes. "I don't feel that hungry."

 Maybe Jongdae would've protested and start shoving steaming hot porridge down Luhan's throat, and maybe Luhan would've called it in for 2nd degree murder.  Except tonight, they both felt a lot of things. Luhan felt pain and anger, mostly towards himself and the rosy boy that hasn't left him since 10 years ago, angry at the voice that sounds like a flower dying. Luhan also felt the crushed glass under his hand, and felt the thing they call hurt from Sehun—he can't forget the look in Sehun's eyes before he slammed the door shut.

 Jongdae, too, felt the thickness in the air between his two friends, felt the disappointment that's present when someone witnesses a drunk friend scream and hurl insults out of hurt and built-up emotions. They both felt too many things; a lot of it seems to be on the verge of everyday feelings. 

 "I'll make us some tea," Jongdae finally says, finally letting it all the drop. "Let's sit in the living room, okay?"

 Luhan snuggles himself against the couch, abandoning the blanket on the other side. A remote digs into his back, but he makes no effort to move it, just letting it dig into his skin. 

 Jongdae appears, carrying an expensive china tray that Luhan hasn't seen since last Lunar New Year, when everyone thought it would be a fantastic idea to cram the whole lot of them into one small apartment. "You like omija, right?" Jongdae asks, pushing aside the books on the table Kris had forced him to read. He didn't read a single page. "Or were you the one that spit it out when we went out in Hongdae?"

 "No, that was Kyungsoo," Luhan replies, staring down at the bright red sitting in the tea cup. "Kyungsoo doesn't like berries."

 The cup warms Luhan's hands, and it feels nice. "Ah, that's right," Jongdae beams. "Kyungsoo-ah has always been the bigger fruit kind of guy."

 He pours himself a cup, sniffing up the sweet and tangy aroma and looking pleased with himself. 

 "Thanks, Jongdae." 

 "Huh?" Jongdae takes a sip before cupping it in his hands, rubbing his thumbs around the rim. "For the tea? No problem. In truth, I needed an excuse to make tea because drinking tea alone is lonely. That's why I opt for beer instead."

 Luhan smiles, but it falls through and it looks weak. "No, thank you for being my friend."

 Jongdae frowns, sitting up, his curly hair bouncing as he shifts in his seat. "You said that earlier. Luhan-hyung, friendship is a very mutual thing, if this is the case I ought to thank you for being my friend, too." He laughs, but Luhan doesn't.

 It hurts so much at his chest.

 "I love friends," Luhan breathes out, and it comes out rattling and dusty. It's been a long day. "God, I thanked the Lord when I got to Korea and truly found friends, a lot of them, too. If I didn't have my friends, I would've kissed the rusty railing years ago."

 "Luhan...?"

 "I didn't have friends in China, not really." Luhan stares at the bright red liquid in his cup, there is no reflection. "I couldn't make any, couldn't find any. I think I had one when I was 7, maybe. But he stopped being friends with me because I looked like a girl, and girls have cooties." Luhan laughs, and somewhere in between, he chokes. "I never got the chance to have friends."

 There's a blurry thought of tiny children hands sticking wads of gum to his hair, a more sharp image of him sobbing and wrestling with a pair of scissors, cutting off that strand with bright purple gum on it. 

 "My cousin, he was a few years older than me, five years, actually. He was always there for me after school, because junior high let the kids out earlier than the elementary did. My cousin...really was always there for me, he made me happy—like I had...like I had friends. I looked forward to everyday because he'd always surprise me with sweet treats or maybe a bike ride in the neighborhood."

 "Was he...was he your friend? He sounds like a good one, especially for childhood." Jongdae says quietly, watching him with careful eyes, terrified that he may break.

Luhan sets down his tea before it can break in his grip and spill.

 "Doesn't he?" His voice is dry and lacking a lot of things. "He was friend, my cousin, brother, my parent. My everything, he had a hand in everything." His father, a cardiologist, had the time to examine a lot of hearts, just never had the time to see his son's heart withering. Luhan never saw his father in anything but a white coat that's void of any flaws. Luhan never really saw his father in the first place.

 His mother, too, liked to be at high-end clubs and parties drinking cocktails out of fancy big glasses on the weekends. Weekdays she's gone, too, sometimes the rare pat on the head and muttering something to the nanny to  _'not get her flowery son dirty'._  

 He was his parent. The caring mother that he lacked was him, in sandwiches and secret cookies under the dining table. The father who took him out to the park to play soccer and bike down the perfect cut grass in the late mornings of weekends. "He was my parents' favorite nephew, maybe his son if I was out of the picture and playing with toys instead." 

 Luhan recalls the chandelier that rarely swayed hard enough to come crashing down. 

 "Luhan," Jongdae grasps his hands in his, rubbing his warm hands against Luhan's. "If this is too hard..." Luhan hasn't realized he was breathing heavily, in rapid and sharp breaths that mimics a panic attack. "You don't have to tell me."

 "My cousin's name is Sun Wei."

 Everything crashes down harder than rainfall. 

 Luhan remembers Sun Wei's face clearly, at least, what he looked like 10 years ago. Impeccable black hair that's never tousled but always seemed effortless and natural. Smiley eyes that crinkles just like his, except Sun Wei's were sweeter and beautiful. His lips were red, like the kind of lips achieved by a few lollipops. They reminded Luhan of roses.

 " _Don't say anything_...I don't hear him right now but if you talk, I'll never be able to say it again," Luhan rasps, watching the confusion flicker like twin flames in his eyes. His mind is empty right now, and he doesn't know why. "This is the first time you ever heard of that name, huh? Ryeowook and Hyunjae knows his name, and I...I fucking  _hear it every single_  minute."  _Unless I'm with Sehun_. 

 "I don't understand..."

 "I know," Luhan says quickly. "I know you don't. That's good. I didn't want you to understand, but now I do. I...you have to." 

 Jongdae doesn't say anything, but there's a comforting silence from him, and he gives Luhan squeeze on the hand, saying,  _it's okay. I'm here._

 Yes, he is here. His friend, his friends. 

 "Sun Wei was likable, like he could do no wrong in the world." Luhan tosses his head back, squeezing his eyes shut to avoid any tear streaks. "God, how wrong was that, fucking lie. It was a fucking lie." Luhan's voice, strained, words tumbling over each other and a bit of his accent coming out of the curtains. "He picked me up from school everyday when he learned how to drive. I was 12. Said that he didn't want a kid like me walking. He called me a kid, Jongdae. He _fucking acknowledged_  me as a kid and still...he..." There's the loss of words. 

 There's realization in Jongdae's eyes, hesitated, reserved, but it had dawned on him; there was no way for Luhan to seal his lips anymore. "Luhan, it's okay, it's okay," Jongdae murmurs, pulling his friend in closer, so that Luhan's head was resting against his shoulder, not caring if his shirt got wet. Jongdae and Luhan weren't the touchy kind of best friends, like Chanyeol and Baekhyun. But there were hugs and things like that, and on nights Luhan slept over, he'd drape himself over Jongdae, irritating the latter. 

 "He was picking me up one day. It was in May...I remember it. Sun Wei was picking me up earlier today and I didn't know—God, if I knew—and he saw me. He saw me kiss a boy." 

 He remembers screaming hard enough to see if chandeliers could sway and crash down on a 12 year old. 

 There's a sharp intake from Jongdae, and Luhan squeezes his eyes shut, expecting him to pull away. Expecting repulsiveness, incredulity, swears and the whole lot. He expects all of that, but he gets nothing. Instead, Jongdae's arms around Luhan tightens, pulling him in closer so that both of them are hugging. 

 Luhan finally starts to let his tears fall freely, accompanied with hiccups and cries. 

 And Jongdae easily counters them with shushing and running his calloused, chef hands down and up Luhan's back, telling him it's alright it's alright, and there was a thank you somewhere in between the words of reassurance. 

 "He saw me kiss a boy, Jongdae, and Sun Wei stopped. He just s-stopped being my brother and my friend and parent. Just fucking ripped me apart." 

 "There's nothing wrong with that, Luhan," Jongdae whispers, rocking the smaller one back and forth. 

 "Did you know what happened after?" Luhan's voice is stone cold, damp with tattered sobs interrupted by hiccups and sniffles. Grown men don't cry, adults don't cry. Except Luhan isn't a grown man, nor an adult. He's lost, he knows that. He's lost somewhere in between stolen childhood and teenage years full of a dosage of sleeping pills and antidepressants. His adulthood is a slow, pathless recovery. He's lost, he's lost. "He tried to  _ungay_  me."

 Luhan peels himself away from Jongdae, just enough for him to see his face ashen. "Stop...Luhan you don't have to tell me this if it's too hard—," Luhan shakes his head, a bit too desperately, but there's no room for thoughts like that.

 "I have to, if I don't I never will," Luhan whispers, even though it's just the two of them. Three of them. "I swear to fuck if I don't I will never and it's going to kill me one day if I don't. It's going to  _kill_ me, I swear."

 "I..."

 "I didn't have a name for it," Luhan rushes out, grasping onto something, maybe it's Jongdae's sleeves, or his arms. "I didn't know what to call it then. I was 12. It was a lot of...a lot of touching. I knew it was wrong, where he was touching me." 

 Jongdae looks like he's about to throw up or hurl a brick at someone. 

 "My parents adored him. And he slept over nearly every night, in my room, because my parents thought we were so...so close. And do you know what he did, Jongdae?" Luhan looks up at his best friend with dull eyes and a quivering lip. "Stripped me of my school uniform and touched me. He touched my shoulders and my chest and my stomach and everything private to me. He  _violated_  me, and I didn't have a name for it." 

 Luhan recalls a dark room, with his shelf stacked with books in English, Korean, and Chinese, his stuffed animals and wooden planes that Sun Wei helped assemble. There were also drawings that he did, drawings of Sun Wei playing soccer because he was someone Luhan admired. Used to. And his bed—a torture chamber, with a 17 year old's hand rubbing up and down his stomach and lower; the other cupping a boy whose eyes are dead with dried up tears. 

 "A lot of touching," Luhan says, shaking. "Said that if I was gay and disgusting as I was, then this was my punishment. _Ungaying_ me. He came over almost every day to just touch me and make me touch him. I was...I was 12, Jongdae, I was  _fucking 12 and I didn't have a fucking name for it."_

 Jongdae's crying too now.

 "I was 13 when I found the name," Luhan says, his voice hollow. "Sun Wei...he stroked my face with his hands and said I was pretty, but I was repulsive and needed to purify myself. I was scared—I still am scared, I don't go one day without remembering him hovering me and kissing me, and it was so awful and I wanted to kill myself. I truly wanted to kill myself then." Luhan pulls his hands away from Jongdae, not looking at him as he brings it up to his ears, covering everything. 

 "It was just touching, sometimes he kisses me and those days I wanted to die. But that night...he...he pushed me down onto my bed, and unbuttoned my pants."

 Jongdae's sobs are just as loud as Luhan's, his face blanched and his eyes red. 

 "I found the name, God, I found the name," Luhan cries, his entire body shaking and shaking his feet are cold. " _Rape_ , Jongdae. It was  _rape_  and it was so painful, I didn't want to find the name. I wish I never fucking did!" Because now, Luhan's reminded every single day, that there's a name to such things, that he's one of many, that he was and always will be reminded as a rape victim.

 The creak of the bed, and Sun Wei pressing down a heavy palm on Luhan's lips, bruising force and a cut was made, under his lip. A 13 year old's hands struggling, trying to push him away, but there was nothing. A silent plea that hacked itself into the dead of the night, a rape issue that stayed hidden in the mind and heart of a 25 year old man, who still silently plea that the voices would go away. 

 A 13 year old's nights gone missing, and he stays up in fear of seeing a boy that he once adored and held hands with, down to the park that was 15 minutes away. There were lost hopes in Luhan, when he was still 13, that Sun Wei would stop everything and they'd forget. Because Sun Wei meant too much to Luhan, as a parent, brother, cousin, and friend. 

 Except they don't forget. And Luhan's still here, a little bit more than a decade later, seeking doctors and medical bills to forget it all. But the trick is not forgetting, just living everyday, remembering acute details. 

 "I'm gay, Jongdae," Luhan says, flinching. "I don't like girls at all. I like boys, I like sweet boys," _like Sehun. I like tall boys with freckles and terrible cartoons on plastic cups. I like boys with sharp smiles and sweet eyes, I fucking love all of that._  

 Jongdae breathes out, his eyes fluttering shut and pulling Luhan in closer. "I can't believe you've been holding this in all these years...Luhan...I'm so sorry."

 Luhan shuts his eyes, too. It feels really nice, letting it out. "Don't be. I don't want you to be sorry." Luhan sits upright, though his head is pounding and his heart does the same, just twice as hard. "You...you accept me, right?" Luhan asks nervously, toying with his fingers and blinking through wet eyes. 

 Jongdae stares at Luhan for a long time, his nose red from sniffling and his eyes are bright with tears, too. "You idiot, you're so stupid. Yes, _yes, yes,_ of course. Of course I do." Jongdae leaps into Luhan's arms, strangling the older one in a hug. "I don't care where your dick goes.”

 That night, after stuffing themselves full of broth and chicken—Jongdae practically force-fed Luhan—they stuff themselves under the masses of blankets on the bed, kicking aside Donald Duck and a bunch of other stuffed animals because the bed isn't big enough for two people and about a dozen other stuffed toys. 

 Jongdae is still there, even after everything. He's still in the same bed, like when they were 15 and falling asleep together after watching a few movies; Jongdae's mother coming in and draping blankets over the two of them. Jongdae hasn't changed at all. He's still here,not shying away from Luhan's hugs. Luhan is so happy. 

   


➳➳➳

 

 

 Mr. Changmin has always had a soft spot for Luhan. Maybe it was because he finished his work a week before deadlines, or maybe it was because Luhan helped him in a pinch when he forgot to buy his sister, Jiyeon, a gift. 

 Luhan hears sizzling pans and pots from outside the room, him sitting up with a stiff neck from sleeping on a Daisy Duck stuffed animal. He blinks a few times, pulling sleep from his eyes in a daze. He knows this isn't his room, because this room is colorful and plastered in posters of video games and girl group idols. It's Jongdae's, he realizes, after a few seconds of staring at the book shelf cluttered in Link and Cloud action figures. 

 He remembers yesterday with a pounding headache. 

 "I called Mr. Changmin and Kyungsoo for you," Jongdae shouts over the sound of burning garlic. "Said you got a cold from last night's rain—which, you definitely did." Jongdae's hair is pulled up in that horrendous apple bun and Luhan cringes, Jongdae sticking his tongue out at him. 

 "Thanks," Luhan says, staring at the clutter of mismatched plates and bowls. "What are you doing—is this a buffet?"

 Jongdae beams, scrapping the garlic off the pan and into a plate of beef. "My good morning feast to my good, ol' friend. Lu-lu hyung!" 

 Luhan cracks a smile, muttering shut up as he does so. "Is this because you feel bad for me?"

 Jongdae's hands falters, but the smile doesn't drop, only a margin. "No...I just," Jongdae kicks off his slippers. "Angry at myself. And I'm taking it out on food." Jongdae carries the plate over to place in the center, careful not to knock off the small bowl of kimchi and soy sauce. "It had nice results, my anger made itself into beef."

 The sleep completely falls flat off Luhan, and all he is left in is thoughts of last night and the smell of sour kimchi and banana milk. "Why are you angry?" He asks, though he knows, he should know. Why wouldn't he, after seeing his best friend's face ashen and sick and so frustrated last night. Luhan maybe shouldn't have told him, told Jongdae. But he doesn't regret it, not too much. 

 He slides in the chair next to Luhan, handing him a pair of chopsticks and a wad of napkins. "I don't know. I just got so mad at myself—I thought I would've known, or at least know what your sexuality preferences." Jongdae pulls his hair back, exposing a constellation of moles that reminds Luhan of the soft galaxy of freckles dotted on Sehun's nose and cheeks. "I can't believe that I didn't... _that I should have_..." his voice falters, and Luhan reaches out to grip his arm. 

 "Stop," Luhan says urgently. "Stop being mad at yourself. I didn't want anyone to know...I was scared, Jongdae. I was really scared and there were only two people that knew and those two people I'm scared of. My aunt and Dr. Ryeowook...and I'm so _terrified_ that I don't even visit my aunt that often, even though she's okay with it. I was really scared I would lose you."

 Jongdae blinks furiously. "Fuck, this is too early for emotional times."

 "Don't you have work?" Luhan asks softly, careful not to upset his friend anymore.

 "I took the day off, I am the boss, anyways." Jongdae reassures him with the quirk of a half-smile. 

 They eat in almost silence, except say for Jongdae's purposely obnoxious chewing and Luhan kicking his shin every time he chomps on wet noodles too loudly. 

 "You look like you have a lot to say." Luhan notes, pushing aside his bowl and letting the chopsticks clutter beside it. "You do, don't you? Or do you have a lot of things to ask?" 

 Luhan feels better. The soju out of his system almost entirely, and there's something about sleeping in the pajamas he has kept here since sophomore year when Jongdae moved in the apartment alone, made him feel safe. It's nice, feeling young like he's suppose to. He just missed a few years of his life. 

 Jongdae swallows, looking tentative and jittery. "I'm not sure..." he sighs, and Luhan can really see the fragile dark skin under his eyes when he leans back into the chair. "I do, I do have a lot to ask and say." He brings his knees up and buries his face into his legs. "It's been driving me crazy all night but I'm not sure..."

 "Ask. Please ask, I want to get it out, too."

 "After...after he—" Jongdae gulps. "—did those things to you...is that when you left? Left for Korea?"

 "Yeah," Luhan replies easily, only because it's a one word answer. Fourteen and scarred by a loved one, bruised hands that struggled with stuffing all his belongings into suitcases. A flimsy bandage around them so his father wouldn't see. The only time his father ever looked at him as more than just a household member. 

It was brief.

 Luhan had carried his burdens with him in the red suitcase. 

 "I didn't have anyone left," Luhan continues, his eyes fluttering shut now and then, as if to pace himself. "My mom...she died six months before my 12th birthday. I told you that, I think. My father didn't care, and my cousin had turned me to shit." 

 "What about that boy...?" Jongdae constantly is picking at his skin, but Luhan shoots him a look of reassurance. 

 "I don't remember his name. He was a grade older than me. Kissed me because he found me pretty and I kissed him because I knew I was gay and I wanted...I wanted to be kissed."  _To be loved_. "I don't know his name...he committed suicide, though." _My fault._ The last few words comes out as a forced lullaby. Or a cracked music box that seems to repeat itself until the little dancer snaps her legs. 

 "I..."

 "Maybe I would have, too." Luhan looks over Jongdae and at the pulled back curtains that expose tall buildings and unlit ads that screams a louder tune at night. "But I don't know why I didn't."

 "Don't say things like that."

 "I know, I won't," Luhan says, smiling at Jongdae. "Things have gotten better for me, I won't have thoughts like that. I won't say things like that."

 The only thoughts in his head are of Sun Wei. 

 There's relief in Jongdae's eyes. 

 "One more," Jongdae breathes out, his face more in full colors and his posture isn't hunched anymore. "Just one more thought."

 "Ask, Jongdae-ah, ask."

 Jongdae drops his gaze, deeply focus on his own socks. "I...what about...you're dating Hyunjae."

 Luhan freezes. 

 He remembers being a few years younger in his early twenties instead of his mid-twenties now. And Hyunjae was _beautiful_ , even though there was no attraction to her, because Luhan...Luhan has different tastes. But there was something about her soothing voice and endless patience that cared for flowers and hearts like they were one in the same. Luhan found that sort of thing safe, safe enough that he plastered a sticker that says  _LOVE_  on it and pretended it was. But they both know it wasn't. 

 "I'm fixing that," Luhan finally says, slowly and carefully. He can't choke up now; he has to stay strong. "It was wrong of me...keeping her with me even if... _she couldn't...I couldn't_ love her. But she was just so, so safe. Like someone that could hold me and it would look so right to the world. Because Jongdae, I'm gay and the world will shit and scream at me if I were to hold a man."

 Jongdae's shoulders slump. "Luhan...people are changing now. Things aren't as they were 10 years ago. There's a big LGBT community in Korea and all around the world, it'll be—"

 " _How long?_ ' His voice cracks, and he is sorry. "How long do I have to wait to kiss someone? There's someone I want to kiss but I want it to be right when I do kiss him, and God, I can't afford to wait any longer."

 "Then don't," Jongdae replies just as quietly as he had. "Don't wait." Luhan doesn't have to say anything. Because Jongdae knows now, fixing together pieces of an intricate puzzle. They both know who. 

 "What if it's too late though?" Luhan's voice is going too fast. "What if I drove him away and what if he's fucking gone because of what I said yesterday and the things I've  _done_ —,"

 "Shut up, Luhan, just shut up." Jongdae snaps, a sharp turn from his quiet voice a few moments earlier. "Sehun...I didn't know before but I can see now, the way he had always looked at you. Shut up about your mistakes and just...take him. Apologize. And embrace him, embrace you."

The mention of Sehun sends Luhan in a tumble, guilt and pain and the strong feelings of liking someone overwhelms Luhan. And Jongdae can tell.

 Breakfast ends in Jongdae taking a long breather out in the balcony and Luhan holding himself as he dissolves into thoughts. 

   


➳➳➳

 

 

 Jongdae drives Luhan home, telling him to call him if he wants to eat or go out with Chanyeol and play pool. Luhan nods, though he know he won't do either. It took a while to convince his best friend leave him alone for the rest of the day, who was afraid of Luhan doing something terrible to himself or to someone.

 It's understandable. 

 Dusting the broken green shards of yesterday into the pan, he sneaks a glance at his palm, a band-aid messily stuck on covering a small cut. 

The shower head spits out water, spewing and sputtering coughs until it's burning hot. It's only a few minutes of standing directly under before he slumps against slippery shower glass, pressing his drenched head back against the surface. The realization of coming out to his best friend after nearly 10 years dawns on him, and there's a leap of his heart and a shatter of a gear in his brain. 

 The thing Luhan is most terrified of—rejection. To be rejected by his cousin, his father and mother and everyone back at home is a whole other story, one with a long road to recovery and a lot of sleepless nights. But to be rejected by friends whom he leaped over Yixing's good-for-nothing fences with, carrying plastic trays of rice cakes and candy bars stuffed in the back pocket, to be rejected by them, Luhan doesn't know how he'd take it. 

 The shower water plays a steady beat against his skin, splashing and skittering off in tiny beads, some tinier than others. Luhan sees a lot of things under his eyelids, the bright light of his bathroom and little spots of red and blue. He sees a replay of yesterday, though, the stunned look on Sehun and his trembling hands when Luhan's mouth worked faster than his mind. 

 Luhan pulls at the twists and curls of his hair in a gasp. 

 Staggering feet that feels so tied down when he steps out of the shower, wet hair that he doesn't bother with drying, despite Jongdae yelling at him for already getting sick. He almost forgets to turn off the water, only realizing when he still hears the pitter-patter of watery feet and it's not in his head. 

 His apartment is dark, unlike Jongdae's and unlike any of his friends, except maybe Joonmyun, but that's only because he's messy. There's no lights on, only a dreary clutter of dust collecting and visible in the sun's selective spot. Laying down in that selective spot, he feels the glare of the sun shine against his dripping hair that's flat against the wooden surface of the floor, his breathing so loud and so close to his ear. 

 In his hands, aside from the fluffy towels and fingers toying with the little hairs, his phone buzzes with notifications. Luhan didn't bring his phone over Jongdae, it tosses somewhere in between the couch cushions and untouched until late morning. There's a lot of voice mails and messages from Hyunjae, a notable amount from all his friends—though Kyungsoo was mainly sending pictures of food on which Luhan would want—and, none. None from Sehun.

 He expects that. 

 Tossing over over his back is ignoring the balcony and the sunlight, he blinks back harsh dryness and bites down, keeping the surge of unhappiness in its place; at his heart. Slow fingers that types in a message to the group chat of his friends, before pressing the call button for Hyunjae. 

 One ring, two rings. It's three rings when it's up and there's her sweet voice and background noise. "Luhan! I—where have you been? I called Ryeowook and all he said that you needed a bit of time to think especially after that and you couldn't have at least called? Luhan I was worried!" she says hurriedly, all in one breath. "You can't just go missing for a day and come back as if _nothing's wrong!_ "

 There's a short pause in between, before Luhan cracks a smile, though no one is there to witness so. "You're getting upset."

 "I... _yes_ , Luhan. I am getting upset."

 "That's the first time," he says slowly, pressing her ear against the phone further. "I've heard you sound so real." Because Hyunjae is all limited laughter and quirky smiles that bares no limit, unlike the first. She is all sweet back hugs and fragrance that smells like daisies singled out in a bed of tulips. Kim Hyunjae has an acquired love for all things pitiful and lovable, and it just so happens that Luhan fits in the first, rather than the latter. "You sound real." There's a choked laugh, maybe.

 "Luhan," 

 "I just want to pretend for a bit," Luhan says under his breath, though it's heard. "It's my last time." It's about time he stops playing in the flower bed, because it's winter and he'll get sick if he stays outside for too long with no one to fetch him and to love him. "I have to talk to you, come over later."

 There's no voice on the other side, only background noise. "Will you tell me why you didn't reply to my messages for a near whole day?"

 "Of the liking."

 "Okay." She sounds less sweet, like honey nectar that can't go spoiled but has sat in the back of the pantry for too long. Kim Hyunjae is a lot of things. She's nectar and flower petals and coconut lip balm. Maybe Luhan would love her in another life. Maybe she'd love him in another way. 

 "Get upset more often, Hyunjae-ah," Luhan says before they part. "It _sounds real_ and it gives comfort to people, okay? It's nice to know nice people can get upset, too. Reassurance."

 She doesn't ask what kind of reassurance because she's too polite. Luhan's sure she knows what sort, anyways. 

 A long silence that steadies itself between him and Sun Wei seems absolute, at least, for now. 

   


➳➳➳

Luhan has trouble working up the buttons on his shirt, because hesitating at the last three buttons makes his mouth dry and his heart racing. Wet hair that has been dried by a blow dryer and his lips not so parched after lathering a minty balm on it. He'll bite and chew on it later, anyways. Faded jeans that has seen better days and better washing machine, but he looks presentable.

 He keeps his hands in his lap, clenching and unclenching constantly, his heartbeat erratically and his hearing out of whack. Hyunjae's coming soon, maybe with a flower pot again to brighten up the place, in red heels and pink gloss that should be smeared by a better man and a better love story to go with it. 

 His eyes flicker to his desk, smothered by ties and charging laptops and tablets. But among it all, are the photos stacked nicely on top of each other, glossy and not bent at all. 

 Sehun's eyes look so bright in the photo, his hat pulling back his hair and his cheek squished against Luhan's. A blur of colors and people in the back, and Luhan remembers the park and street food eaten on plastic tables. His throat tightens unreasonably, and there's the need to clutch the photo close to his chest and call Sehun. Or run and find Sehun and kiss him hard. 

 It's not time for that yet. Luhan wonders if he'll ever find the time. 

 Sliding the photo back into the envelope, he brings it with him when he leaves his room. Placing it on the side of the coffee table, Luhan sets out the Rilakkuma mugs he knows Hyunjae likes—Sehun likes them, too—and with shaky pale hands, he waters the flowers that are only partially dead. 

 Pulling back the blinds so there's light, he straightens out the pillows and blankets so it's neat and there's color showing, including the Poporo blanket he had received as a joke from Jongin for his birthday but it's so soft that Luhan uses it everyday. He sets out her flower-embed slippers at the front door ready, and wonders if they'll ever be worn again after today. 

 There's a knock at the door. 

 Hyunjae steps in, one foot at a time, with long hair that's pulled back with a hair tie and her lips glazed with pink. A royal blue pot that fits between her hands, it's pretty and small like all the other plants she brings over. "Luhan-ah," she says, her eyes smiley but dim, too. "You look well."  _I'm not._

 He returns her smile. "Yeah." He takes the pot from her, and there's a small green plant growing. Maybe he should water it this time. Setting it down on the dining table, he tugs on her hand warmly, curling his fingers at the right places as he has done before. 

 "What's all this?" she looks around, raising soft brows at the set of mugs filled to the brim with her favorite hot chocolate and coffee for him. She notes the plate of sugar cookies, too. 

 "Let's sit," Luhan replies softly, tugging her a bit more until she falls into step beside him, before settling down on the sofa across from him. "I made your favorite drink," he points at the mug. "A lot of sugar as you like it."

 Hyunjae smiles, curls falling over her shoulders as she bends down to take the handle of the mug. "Thank you, Luhan." She's beautiful, Luhan can see it all, how couldn't he? Mellow and sweet like candies. She's a bundle of flowers that never seems to wilt or go limp, wrapped in firmly with pretty wrappings and pulled altogether by a red string with a tight bow. God, she's lovely, and maybe he loves that idea.

 Just that idea. 

 "You and Sehun have a lot in common," Luhan starts, before coughing violently. There's something stuck in his throat. It's probably forgotten words. "You both like sweet things, and rilakkumas. Sehun likes Japanese comics, and I think I saw you reading some once. The romance ones, you like those, right? I don't think Sehun reads those, but you guys are so alike. You both also have an earthly fragrance. Yours...yours comes from the flower shop and the soil. Sehun's comes from the cologne he uses. He smells like pine, did you know?"

 He feels like it's yesterday again, sitting in front of Jongdae and spilling out dark secrets.

 "You both are like dreams on the dotted line." Luhan finishes, almost. He looks down at his own hands, the band-aid replaced with a newer one and he can see that his scratch marks are nearly gone. "But you're both really different."

 Hyunjae looks at Luhan comfortingly, but her eyes sparks with a dubious tense to them. "Of course, Sehun and I are individual people." 

 "You don't forget," there's a chuckle rising out of him, but he knows it's dry and completely off. "You don't forget my burdens and the fact that your cousin is my doctor. How could you forget? You know my medical papers and you know my voices. You know and you know my medication cabinets and you know I cry. The only thing you don't know is why, why these burdens exist."

 Hyunjae, stunned, her pink lips parted in surprise. "Luhan, what are you talking about?"

 "You don't forget and you can't forget, that's why you're still with me, isn't it? I don't take you out on beautiful dates or kiss you right or hold you...not because I don't want to—no, actually,  _I didn't want to,_ I couldn't. I don't do anything for you and yet you're still here," it ends in a whisper. "But for the wrong reasons that are haunting me." 

 "That's not true Luhan..."

 "You're still here because you're pitying me," Luhan says, his voice smooth and not crinkling. He can't say that his eyes aren't bright with something else, though. "You know too much and that's why you won't leave me."

 Hyunjae's pretty fingers grip the mug handle harder. "Do...do you want me to leave?" she doesn't sound sweet, just sad and lost. It's a short, temporary thing, anyways. 

 "We don't love each other." 

 She flinches, and Luhan's heart drops, though it's not for her. He doesn't know who it's for, actually. "Luhan...is this about your appointment?" her voice is unstable.

 Luhan's laugh is humorless. Harsh. The apartment still manages to be so dark, even with all the blinds open and sunlight pouring in graciously. "It's always about the appointment, isn't it? It's always that reason that you can't leave me for someone who you love?" _Like Joonmyun._

 "I do...did...do love you." Her face twists in confusion and hurt.

 Luhan looks away, because her doll-like face seems to truly be of porcelain and there are cracks where it's visible and darting eyes that exchanges glances with shadows and Luhan. "The idea of me. That I could be loved." Luhan's eyes are wet, too, not for her. Not for her. "That's what you thought you loved. And for me...I loved the idea of loving you, because it seemed like I was  _suppose to do_."

 Luhan thinks she's sobbing, he can't hear over the whirring of his brain. 

 "Whenever I kissed you, you taste like coconut and strawberries. Maybe it's your lip balm. Sometimes you wear that minty one and it makes my lips tingle." Luhan's counting the numbers of times his heart stops for a mere second. He has counted 7. "When I kissed Sehun, he taste of pines, soju, and cigarettes. It's funny, because he doesn't smoke." 

 It's a lot easier to say it, surprisingly. Luhan doesn't know what he expected, perhaps a drawl of words and more fits of coughs. He had expected not to say anything at all, to just shake his head and apologize for forgetting what he would he say. Except he doesn't forget, and saying that he kissed Sehun comes out easily.  _I kissed Sehun, I kissed Sehun. I'll kiss him again._  

 Hyunjae nearly drops her mug. 

 Instead, she spills some of it, searing, hot liquid spilling all over her hands and she yelps, and cries and cries. Not because of the burn. Luhan, quickly grabbing a handful of napkins, moves his hand to grab her, but she slaps it away. " _Don't touch me,_ I..." Her face is pale, a sharp contrast to rosy lips that should be kissed by a better man and wide eyes that are dubbed with shock and something else. But it's not disgust. 

 Her hands shake. They're red like the fingers of dawn. 

 Luhan stays silent for second, only externally though, because he's screaming and so is Sun Wei in the inside. He presses the napkins into her hands, against her protests, dabbing and dabbing until her hands aren't sticky with chocolate anymore. "I'm sorry," he says with a strain, and he means it. "I'm so fucking sorry, Hyunjae."

 "You're...you like boys..." her eyes are dim. Though he only takes a second's glance at her, there's a tragic sort of beauty to her, like the beauty admired but never to vye for. Her pretty curls seems to limp now, and pale skin seems too pasty and it gets more and more ashy as Luhan speaks. Her lip gloss is smeared by the mug. 

 "I like boys," he repeats, slowly, so no one can deny that he said that. He doesn't whisper it either, he says it. He says it. "I've..." he chokes, sputters. "Yes. I'm gay, I like boys."

 The second time isn't easier. 

 Luhan's coffee goes cold, and his heart thumps too fast and tears his insides apart. "I...I lied to you."

 "You...y-you did," she hiccups harshly, her eyes dilated and nose stained with red, so are her cheeks.

 A small part of him wants to reach out and pull her hair back, and wipe her tears away because that's what he should do as a man and as a person. But he keeps his hands in his lap, curling inward at his jeans and grabbing a fistful as he watches her cry. This isn't his place anymore. "You're happy." His voice is much more quieter now, the fight in him gone and the burning low. "You don't have to be with my burdens anymore. Because whatever you felt for me was out of guilt and pity, I know, I know it too well. And whatever I felt for you—I adored the idea of you."

 Her shoulders are shaking violently, but none of their tears are for each other, that's how it works. When she says nothing, he continues with a tittering voice that's sure to break. "I need someone...who doesn't know the former me." He recalls Seulgi and her words in the break room, exchanged over watery coffee and scoops of French coffee beans. Her words embed in his skin and skull, of needing a stranger's love. Sehun's love. "I need someone who doesn't know my burden. I was scared, I still am. _Fuck,_ I kissed so many girls and I kissed you so much to prove myself, to change myself. I couldn't."

 "You need a boy," her voice isn't accusatory, just hollow. 

 "I'm a coward. I'm pathetic. I need someone who doesn't pity me," he says, and his cheeks must be wet. "I need a boy, yes, but I need someone who doesn't look at me like...like..." he wishes he wasn't gay. He'd love Hyunjae. "Like I'm flower in dire of watering. That. That's how you look at me, that's how you've been looking at me all this time." She flinches like he had hit him. "I'm not one of your bouquets, Hyunjae-ah. I'm not...you're not my florist."

 Hyunjae grabs a handful of tissues. A few blows into the tissues and dabbing at her eyes, face blotched in red and her eyes bright. "Do you like Sehun?"

 Luhan pauses. He thinks back to the nights they slept in each others arms and entangled in short and long limbs. The nights that he had slept peacefully. Luhan can bring the image of Sehun laughing and hugging him to his mind, accompanied with the careful hands that worked it's way up his stomach and lips that found a home with his. "Yes," he looks away, not in shame, but in momentary grief. "I like him, a lot," he whispers. 

In truth, there's a lot of things to love about Hyunjae. Patience with no end and smiles that could be real or fake and no one ever know. Transparent— _she's not_. And Luhan may have fallen in love with those things, the things that made her Hyunjae because she was someone he needed and someone he wants.

But there are things they do that destroys both of their hearts. Like how Luhan kisses her and holds her waist like they're both in love when, they're not. Or maybe when Hyunjae's too busy watering the roses and lilacs that she forgets that Luhan's drying up and retching up awful memories.

And at 21, he _had_ loved Hyunjae, because the world had turned to utter shit and no one seemed to be able to get him. And they still don't.

 "He makes you happy, right?" She tries to sound cheerful, but it's struggling. Hyunjae has spent years on Luhan, years that could've been spent on Joonmyun. 

 "Yeah," he gives her a few more tissues. "I do. He's so young, you know? In heart and mind, and I, I just can't think around him. And I'm glad I can't, he pushes all the thoughts away."

 There's a stuffy silence that drapes over them like a film, Luhan tugging at his own fingers and Hyunjae looking at anywhere except him. 

 "I won't talk to you for a while," she finally says. "I will. But I need to clear my head." 

 "I know," he replies softly. "I wasn't the one for you." She stands up uneasily, clutching her jacket and bag. Luhan stands up to, hesitant hands that stay by his sides. "Do you want me to drive you home?"

 "No," she says briskly, chokes, wringing her hands after tugging on her coat. "No more favors. Let's not do anything for each other anymore. I'm sorry, Luhan." The bag strap seems to be able to rip under her grip. "I need some time. I don't understand why I'm like this," she laughs, dissolving into tears. " _You're right_. You're right, I loved your sadness and the thought of you but I knew this wasn't for us. But why am I—?"

 "You regret it," he answers for her. "You regret being with me." 

The lack of words become archaic, it's purpose remaining. 

 The door opens, and she's slipping on her shoes and tucking away the slippers that won't be worn for awhile. "Joonmyun is a great guy." Luhan says for the finality of it all. “He'll love you.”

 The door shuts, and she hurries into the elevator. 

   


➳➳➳

 

 

   
Hyunjae doesn't talk to him as she had promised. A slow drag of three days that consisted of Jongdae calling everyday or every hour, for small talk and puns. Luhan pacing back and forth with his phone in his hand, calls going out and a voice mail that he has memorized. A lot of messages left, some are short and some are as long as he can talk for, full of pleas and apologies and the need to see him. 

 Jongdae had called on the first day, after work to witness a sick Luhan pull his hair out and wring his hands constantly until it goes numb. Stumbling up the stairs in a tie that has lost it's Windsor knot and a scarf that has kissed his lips and muffle his breath, he's been told Hongik has been closed for the winter, aside from its English language program. 

 Sehun's gone, and he doesn't know where he is. 

 Shaking hands that had dialed Tao's number, only to hear that Sehun has gone back home, just like the rest of the college kids, Jongin and Taemin included.

 Luhan knows it's a lie. 

 First day ends with a clutter of work he has missed and take outs from Jongdae's, hair sticking up all over the place and out-going calls that no one will answer. A careless promise not to drink from the wine bottle he got from Chuseok, a promise between him and Sehun that only he knows about. First day continues into the second day of Saturday, sleepless with the bed untouched and the phone battery dead. 

 Second day starts with the rhapsodizing of stars that aren't there. 

 "Jongdae," he whispers into the phone at the peak of dawn. "I don't know where he is, and Ten won't talk to me."

 "The shop?"

 "He hasn't been in."

 "Yixing-ah?"

 "Said Sehun had to do things."

 "It'll be fine."

 Luhan sets his mind on paperwork and edits for nearly four hours, drowning himself in enough work to get him a few days ahead of time. A text from Ryeowook that asks how he's doing, a short reply with a few keys before dipping his day into papers and papers, ignoring the phone calls from Kyungsoo and Chanyeol. 

 The takeouts going cold before he remembers that they're there, biting into stringy chicken and clumps of room temperature rice. Luhan finally falls asleep at 4 in jeans and a sweatshirt, murmuring apologies that are unsaid to the other. He thinks he dreams of sugary smiles and chocolate strawberry lips, he's not sure anymore. 

 Sunday starts with a jolt and jeans that dig into his thighs, knots in his neck and back and a snickering squeak from his desk chair as he rises from his seat. Quickly fumbling with his phone, he checks to see for signs of Sehun, in messages or phone calls or if he even read them. There is nothing like that. 

 Tugging a new sweater over bare chest and covering the faint strip of hair on his navel, he trudges into the kitchen, rubbing cold hands that are clammy and still fresh from Wednesday's incidents.

 His phone rings when he's stirring watery coffee in his mug, his heart does a leap and he drops the spoon into the coffee, scrambling for his phone. It's Jongdae. He sighs, but swipes right for answer. "Hello?"

 "Luhan-ah!" Jongdae greets, and Luhan can tell that he's grinning by the tilted voice that's brimmed with brightness and alertness. "Good morning."

 "Not really," he sighs, leaning back so his head rests against the kitchen wall. "I miss him, Jongdae." 

 "He's hurt, Luhan," Jongdae says again for the fourth time within three days. "But he'll forgive you." There's cars in the background, and Luhan can tell he's in the streets. "You have a chance today."

 He freezes.

 "I saw him earlier at a newspaper stand, I think it was him, does he have _blond hair_ and a pink cap?" Jongdae asked, bemused and humming into the phone. “Our Sehun doesn't have...”

 "Sehun?" Luhan asks, straightening up so quickly that he nearly loses his footing in his slippers and stumbles over nothing. "Sehun, you saw him?" His heart races and it's high school all over again with a boy he had loved. He's ready to love again, he hopes so. 

 "I'm not sure, the person I saw had blond hair and I'm not really sure since—,"

 "Sehun, you have to be able to tell, right? Sehun is recognizable, was it him Jongdae? Was it?" His voice rises a little bit, in a rushed panic. He thinks back to unread messages on kakaotalk and voice messages that he wonders if Sehun has heard. "You have to!"

 "I'm not you, Luhan, I can't tell by just the curve of his body," Jongdae sighs. "Go look for him, maybe he dyed his hair. Stop by later, okay? I want you to eat some broth." 

 Jongdae hangs up and Luhan had murmured a  _thank you_ , before staring at his mug with a drowned spoon and opened coffee pots. 

 Hurrying, he slips into beat-up sneakers that have seen better days and grabs a flimsy cardigan before slamming the door shut behind him, phone in shaking hands. It's only when he's out of breath and his sneakers are anchored to cracked sidewalks that he feels a bit of snow kissing the top of his nose and cheeks. 

 There's a cold and a fit of cough waiting for him at his doorsteps when he gets home, if he gets home. 

 A 20 minute walk to the area that harbors the coffee shops and bubble tea cafes turns into a 10 minute dash, heavy coughs and his chest that hurts as he mumbles  _sorrys_ and excuse _me's_  that he doesn't really mean. Stumbling over cracks that he falls into step with, now running ahead of them clutching his phone in freezing cold hands. 

 There's no hope for his car, the line of traffic a clutter of yellow taxis and foreign cars from Europe or Japan. A few yelps from teenagers and adults when he squeezes pass them in desperate pants and thin cardigan that leaves his arms in goosebumps. 

 He goes lightheaded for a moment, stumbling forward a bit as he takes in the sight of the bubble tea shop in front of him, a few steps away. 

 Luhan has done many things in a week. Broke down in the clinic with wretched sobs that spills out secrets between hiccups. Drank until his lips were glossed with soju and broke a boy's heart. Slept with a Luffy doll beside his best friend who now has ties to his secret of whispered sexuality and broke up with a woman who was never really his. Today, today will be another day. And tomorrow, he doesn't know yet. 

 The bell chimes a tune and a farewell when the door opens. 

 It's fall all over again, except Hyunjae isn't there tugging him into the shop that startles him with the lack of chairs but stacked bean bags and how hot it was in here. Luhan remembers how straightforward Sehun had been, and how pretty Luhan had thought him to be, especially for someone so mature-looking. Now it's just him alone, with no hat or coat or anything. He can't hide anywhere. 

 His heartbeat is loud but Sun Wei's giggling and voice is louder.

_ he'll never love you _

_  gay YOU'RE GAY _

_  I'll ungay you. _

_  No. _

 Luhan catches sight of Ten at the cashier, who's staring at him blankly, a frown etched in his lips before his eyes are hooded. Luhan staggers to the counter, blinking furiously as the snowflakes melt into his clothes and hair. "Ten-ah, where is  _Sehun_ —I have to see him, I have to talk to him."

 "I think you should leave," Ten says lowly, a flicker of anger, sadness, and disappointment all wrapped up in a film across dewy skin and accented voices. 

 "I have to see him," Luhan says firmly, panicky.  _I have to apologize, I have to see him, I have to kiss him._

 Ten's eye twitches, and his knuckles are white. "I think it's enough, hyung." Ten holds his gaze intensely, lips flattening out in a straight line, but there's considerations he takes, of Luhan's flushed, rosy cheeks and violent coughs.

 "But I..."

 Luhan hasn't noticed Jaehyun in the corner, slumped against the the counter with blenders and bowls. "He's in the break room," he offers quietly, Ten turning around swiftly, shooting a glare at the younger one. There's not much of a look on Jaehyun, just pulled back hair and eyes that seems to be bright with encouragement. "Go."

 Ten hesitates, balling his hands into fists before letting them go weakly. He stiffly stands to the side, avoiding any glances, nudging Jaehyun in the ribs, hard. 

 Maybe the two are arguing, Luhan can't hear it, pushing open the break room door that's decorated in fliers and sticky notes. 

 His heart stops irrevocably, undeniably, for just one second. 

 Slouched over a coffee table, a half-empty cup of chocolate bubble tea in large hands. Soft strands of tawny blond hair peeks through a candy-colored cap that covers his eyes and freckles. A duffel bag that sits so closely to him, and Luhan's heart breaks all over again. 

 As if in slow motion, Sehun freezes in his place, mid-flip in the newspaper and shaking his chocolate tea around in the cup. Luhan forgets the cold, the possible common cold for the next two days because of all the running, and he forgets Sun Wei and his heavy chest. 

 It took 10 years to get to where Luhan is now, drug-free and rid of antidepressants and weekly therapy. 

 It takes only 2 long strides to the couch and only his hands to cup Sehun's sharp jawline, gasping into his lips before smashing their mouths together. 

 

 Sehun drops the plastic cup, sucking in a sharp breath as his hands are confused on what to do,  _he_  is confused on what to do. Luhan flinches a little bit, bracing himself for rejection and for hands to push him away and spat him. Except Luhan doesn't let go, careful, frosty fingers tracing contoured collar bones and wet cheeks with salty tears that stains Sehun's cheek, too.

 It takes a few seconds for Sehun to respond, and in a few seconds his arms snakes around Luhan hesitantly, before melting into him completely. Luhan sighs into the kiss, collapsing completely against Sehun's board chest in comfort and feeling overwhelmed. Kisses that taste like chocolate and mint instead of soju and cigarettes this time. Dainty fingers that works their way behind Sehun's ear and up to his hair, tugging the cap off and entangling his small hands into the matted and tousled works of newly dyed hair. 

 Sehun's hands on Luhan's hip for reassurance, squeezing and tracing the hipbones that has Luhan shivering. 

 "I'm sorry," Luhan mumbles into the chocolate kiss between a few streaks of tears being wiped away with one of Sehun's hands. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

 Sehun murmurs something incoherent into Luhan's lips, his teeth grazing the bottom of his lip and tugging at it, but his body language says enough for Luhan. The way his hands are protective, and his long limbs holding Luhan in place and secured. And he can't ignore how Sehun presses into him, chest against chest and hot breaths that layers on Luhan's skin when they come out to breathe. 

 "Sehunnie," Luhan says, choked with tears that are more so happy ones. Bruised lips that are so pretty on him and warmer hands clutching on the taller one's collar, Sehun looking up at him with bright eyes and rosy lips. "I'm  _so sorry_ —,"

 " _Shhh_ ," he cuts him off, pulling him closer so his hands are resting on the sides of Luhan's cheeks instead of his waist. His thumb traces invisible hearts and dots on his flesh, carving his name into his hyung. There's the lingering taste of chocolate bubble tea on his lips, and Luhan licks his lips but it doesn't go away. 

 There's life in Sehun's eyes; there is love. 

 "I said awful things to you, but you're...you're," Luhan hiccups, and Sehun brushes his lips with his thumb and smiling up at him warmly. "Letting me do this, letting me touch you. Letting me kiss you."  _Don't push me away like I did to you_. 

 "I've wanted to kiss you ever since you made that face when I suggested bubble tea to you," Sehun whispers, pulling Luhan even closer so there's no an inch of space between him. "God, I've waited so long, to have a kiss that was  _right._ "

 And he's right, their second kiss is much better, because both are sober are it's not in a restaurant bathroom against running faucets and alcohol stained shirts. 

 "I'm sorry," Luhan repeats himself, drying his tears with the sleeve of his cardigan and managing a torn smile. 

 "I know, I know you didn't mean those things, stop saying that now," Sehun says, stroking his long fingers through Luhan's hair. "As long as you're here...as long as you're with me."

 "I want to be with you," Luhan whispers against Sehun's chest, and he hears the heartbeat of his. It's so warm. "I...I like boys, I like—I like you." Sehun doesn't push for more, instead, he wraps his arms around Luhan tightly, taking in a deep intake and it comes out rattling. 

 "Thank God," he says, stirring the boy's hair. "But..." Sehun's voice falters, but his arms doesn't. 

 "I told her everything," Luhan says in a hushed voice. "I want to be with you so badly but I kept pushing you away and I—," his words tumble over each other like pebbles. "God, Sehun, fuck. I am literal shit and I don't..."

 "Stop talking," Sehun cuts him off abruptly, no venom laced between his syllables. "I know, I can read you, you know that? You're so transparent and I can tell what gears are working in your head just because you're so  _vulnerable._ " 

 Luhan sits up, wiggling out of Sehun's arms so he can sit up, but he keeps his hands on his chest. "I have a lot of things to tell you, about me," he says in hoarse voice. "Why I'm like this." A caress at his flesh and a hot touch that leaves fingerprints on sensitive skin. 

 Sehun pulls himself up, too, tugging on his collar to fix it but not removing his gaze, they fit like that; in each others eyes and arms and in every way possible. "Only if you want to," Sehun says gently, slipping his hands into Luhan's, intertwining like vines.

 And vines don't break easily. 

 "Will you...will you forgive me?" Luhan stares at how their hands look together. Flawed hands, with scratch marks and blemishes. Calloused fingertips and veins finding a home in pale skin. But that's okay, because there has never been this much of an energy surge, than holding a sweet and candy-like boy's hand in his. 

 "I already have," Sehun smiles, and warmth blooms at Luhan's chest, pooling over him like a downpour of love, among other things. "I didn't want to, because I thought you only liked women...and it's easier to hate someone who made me feel these things. But you..."

 He stays sitting in between Sehun's long limbs, arms around him and a wall that protects them from the outside world. "I've died everyday," Luhan starts slowly, his breathing now leveled and in balance with Sehun's. "I had  _meant_  to kiss you at the restaurant, I meant too. I never meant those things I said to you, a few days ago and the words a few weeks ago."  _I'm sorry._  

 Sehun doesn't say anything, just holds his gaze for awhile, before leaning in and giving a loving peck on flower-like lips and pulling away slowly and deliberately. "I still think you're stupid, completely idiotic and drowning in oblivion, but I," another peck. "I know how it feels. To be the opposite sexuality of everyone else. You wanted to hide it, didn't you? I did too. I tried so hard before,  _I tried so much._ " He rests his forehead against Luhan's, bangs brushing against his.

 Their lips are a perfect mold against each other.

 They're back to gripping each others arms, waist, or neck, changing in between all three with a few messy kisses when shifting their legs around. "You," Luhan starts, tracing the sensitive and delicate area where his Adam apple is. "Taste really sweet, with chocolate." Laughter bubbles up from him, deepening a kiss that was risky but it was okay. 

 "I told you that you'd like chocolate bubble tea."

 Another stroke, another touch. And this is it—the sort of loving that leaves cigarette butts at the bus stop. The kind of adoration and admiration that has the need to coat each others lips in cotton candy and to lather one another skin in names with the underlying tone of sweetness and need. 

   


➳➳➳

 

 

 The break room isn't too big, and bears a not-so-different style from the cafe itself. Fliers and sticky notes on chipped wooden cabinets, a few tiny lockers and Luhan can tell the cartoon embed one is Sehun's. A duffel bag that's partially unzipped and exposing books and electronics, _OH SEHUN_ stitched into the thick fabric. A lumpy couch with patches on it, Sehun cradling Luhan in his arms, flat against his chest and hands that can't stop touching Luhan's hair. 

 "I called you a lot," Luhan croaks, before coughing into a fistful of his own sleeve. He'll be sick tomorrow. "But you never answered, I thought you hated me. I thought you really left."

 Sehun twirls a strand of charcoal hair between his fingers, letting it slip in intervals. "I was scared," he says softly, careful not to stir Luhan's hair too much. "That you'd tell me to forget you again. To stop liking you and," Sehun shifts a bit, so he's propped up against the back of the couch, Luhan never leaving him. "I can't do that. You aren't forgettable."

 "Would you forget me," it's quiet. "If I wasn't?"

 "No," was his reply, along with a sigh that dances in between contempt and exhaustion. "I wouldn't."

 Luhan likes the intoxicating pine and the faint smell of soap on Sehun's shirt. "Where were you? You weren't at work and I got scared."  _That you left._

 Luhan feels small draped across Sehun's lap, he feels small in general. Embarrassed that he is the hyung between them but yet cradled like a child in Sehun's veiny arms that finds themselves around thin waistlines and sharp hipbones that protrude out in milky skin. 

 "I stayed at the Hongik dormitories because I partook in their English program, they don't do winter semesters," Sehun says, tugging at Luhan's sleeves playfully. "But I needed a place now that the program's over, so I had to take care of stuff in Daegu."

 The tiny hair stands up on the back of Luhan's neck.

 "Are you, going back to Daegu for the winter," Luhan asks quietly, even though there's a burning anxiousness in his chest. "To that place?" A place where he was bullied by family and friends, no, Luhan won't stand for that. 

 Sehun presses a hot kiss to Luhan's brow bone. "No, I'm not. I was just picking up some stuff, I'll be staying with Ten and his sister—,"

 "My place. I mean, my home. Stay, with me. Stay with me for the winter semester," Luhan rushes out briskly, steadying his hands on Sehun's chest. "You can, I want you to. You don't have to stay with Ten,  _stay with me_." It comes out as a startling plea. 

 Sehun's eyes widen a margin, his swollen lips slicked with tea parts. Everything Luhan has built up goes unwinding from sharp cheekbones and shaky rib cages. 10 years worth of forgetting but not really, in hopes that the filthy touches left by someone who had his trust would fade by each passing day or hopefully each passing holiday. But they never did, leaving Luhan to recoil to shadows of his former self, an arc of triumph sadness from those who stayed for his downfall, notably Sun Wei and the 12 year old version of himself. 

 All the walls and the facade that was handcrafted and placed with bruised and bony hands have torn down, kicked and hacked at by a slender and lean boy whose age is a lot different from his face. Whose personality is so young but so empathetic with all the aspects of tea coated lips and cologne of earthy pines and his friends' cigarettes. 

 It all fell down without a protest. 

 "It's a while before the spring semester starts," Sehun lets each word roll off incredulously, his eyes flickering only once in hopes each word sinks in Luhan thoroughly. "What if you change your mind about me? What if you don't like me anymore and I become too much for you?" There's a shatter and the doubt of self-worth that Luhan has familiarized himself with. 

 A quick peck that's terribly sweet and more loving than the earlier ones, a kiss that doesn't linger, one that he can only taste the chocolate instead of the mint. 

 "Idiot, I won't,"  _you are the page I've longed to turn._  "I like you so, so much, Sehun-ah. Don't leave me alone."  _In that room that God has forgotten._  "You might leave me, when I get too sad."  
   
 "Does this mean we're together?" A boyish grin appears and brightens up Sehun's face, and Luhan can't help but bury his face into Sehun's shirt in chuckles, not letting the other go.

 Luhan thinks they deserve this sort of loving.

 Dragging feet and sleeves down to cover exposed arms, a quick peck and a whole lot more of smiles and stunning eyes. "I _am_ still in work," Sehun says wryly, but his arm never leaves Luhan's waist, and there's no protest from him. "I'm surprised Jinki-hyung hasn't fired me yet."

 "He won't ever fire you," Luhan says, playing with Sehun's fingers as if they've done this many times. They probably have. "You're a hard worker."

 "Kissing and cuddling someone in the break room is definitely in a hard worker's agenda," Sehun mocks, but spreads all five of his fingers out for Luhan.

 "It's inevitably in my agenda," Luhan retorts, slipping his tinier hand between his. "I like this. I really like this feeling," he says, his voice taking submerging in a sticky sort of feeling and laced with the remains of the two of them. 

 "I have to work for a few hours to at least qualify for the day," Sehun murmurs, nudging Luhan at thin ribs. 

 "Say you'll stay with me for the winter break," Luhan says.

 "Winter break is a long time, and being stuck with me would be..."

 "We're together now."

 The hue of Sehun's eyes seems to spark a greater conquest than any foreign blue and green eyes. "Who asked who?"

 Luhan rests his chin at the crook of Sehun's neck, where the pine is the best. "I think we just came together, that's all."

 They both stand up together, Luhan's cardigan slightly blemished in wrinkles and his jeans riding up comfortably and bunging up at his thighs. Sehun's glowing, hands that have carved a stone slab's worth into Luhan's. Peeling one hand away to ruffle up tawny hair whose roots are fresh and free of black. "You look good in that color. I like it." His hand lingers in his hair for awhile, and Sehun doesn't mind at all.

 "I got it dyed in Daegu," Sehun says. "Black hair is too much of the norm here," a thumb goes out to press flushed cheeks.

A need to kiss his eyelids.

 "You're anything but the norm, you diabetic-prone idiot," he leans into his arm, anyways.

   


➳➳➳

 

 

 It would have been an understatement to say that Luhan had feared being seen as homosexual. The nights of being 12 and 13 and the ongoing years has inked his heart and tongue. 

 But there's no such thing like that when Sehun presses a steady palm against the break room door, the other in Luhan's grip and out to the shop infested with customers and sweet bubble tea.

 There's a protective touch to Sehun's hand, the one that kept Luhan behind him just enough to spill out an aura of mine. A mature stance to the younger one overall—the complete opposite when it came to Luhan who pressed his forehead into the scratchy material of Sehun's shirt and counting the numbers of times he breathes so he remember he's alive.

 "Could someone get the blender of pineapple cleaned—," Jaehyun stops abruptly mid-sentence, before spluttering into violent coughs behind his arms. Luhan winces, digging his hand into Sehun's hand but not too much that hurts the latter. Everything he has built up, a facade and a mask fit for the king of a masquerade ball, should it all fall there is nothing but a cowardly king whose majesty rules upon broken tongues and teeth. 

 Luhan hears the footsteps of Ten from the kitchen, and from the corner of his eye he sees the boy's eyes widen, gaping at the two. 

 "Fuck, they really do look cute like that," Jaehyun says in a daze, and Luhan freezes. "This is a lot better than the TVXQ fanfics I've read."

 Sehun's back shakes with laughter, his hand on Luhan's tightening and pulling him forward so he's by his side and his arms are around Luhan's waist instead of with his hands. 

 Ten's face drips with careless joy, his eyes as crescents and the corners of his lips stitched up in a broad smile. "So that's why you two were in there for so long," he muses as Jaehyun continues to gush. It's late morning with a lot happening outside Windex'd glasses with a sign that flipped to OPEN, window paints of cute and childish pictures of cartoon-ish bubble tea drinks for display. 

 There is littering and hooded people in the alleyways he passes everyday on the corner of Gi-Sub's Pizzeria or the distinct sight of stale loneliness at the convenience store next door, broke college kids chewing on overcooked ramyun as they wait for the days to pass in distorted seconds.

 But there's a separate idea, a separate world in the tea shop, arms around thin waists and smaller hands tracing the veins on them. A sad boy and a sad lover whose chances depend on the untied shoelaces of passersby and their stance on whatever kind of love they possess. 

 "You owe me 20,000 won," Jaehyun makes a loud smack of his lips, flattening out his palm in front of Ten. "I told you they'd get together before New Year's!"

 "Fuck you," Ten mutters, but his eyes are so vivid in its brown hue, darting back and forth on the faces of Sehun and Luhan, the gleam brighter and notable by each glance. 

 "You guys made a bet on us?" Luhan asks dryly. 

 Jaehyun grins cheekily, before Sehun leans over to tug at the youngest one's ear. " _You little_ —,"

 "You're together now?" Ten asks, his voice a bit more gentle to match his eyes. 

 Luhan watches folds his arms up against his chest, tapping his feet against the cool tiles of the floor. "Yeah. I cleared a lot of things up, my lies and secrets."

 "Good," Ten says, beaming. "He deserves love. And you, you deserve his love." 

 "Really?" Sehun's tackling Jaehyun in a hug, laughing into it all with the few playful punches. "It takes a lot to love me."

 Ten nudges the side of Luhan's arm, frowning. "Oh, hush. It takes a lot to love in general, feel lucky," Luhan melts into the scenery again. "Some people don't love at all. And they just leave, like that. Not trying to love because it's too much."

 Sehun stops to look over at Luhan, perking up and pulling at Luhan's arms and swinging them slightly. Luhan can't help but to gaze at him fondly, letting his arms be swung back and forth, because he has Sehun now. "I have to get to work now," he says sheepishly, giving his hands a tight squeeze. "Is that okay?"

 "Uh huh," Luhan murmurs, shutting his eyes momentarily, exhaust finally catching up to him. 

 "So I take it you won't be staying at Ten's place for the winter?" Jaehyun asks, his voice bubbly and giggly. Sehun flushes, his ears delightfully tinted red and freckles that jumps with another crack of a smile. 

 "He'll be staying with me," Luhan pipes up, and Ten snickers. 

 There's a lot to love, but maybe it takes a few stumbles and knee scraps to get there. 

   


➳➳➳

 

 

 Unpacked boxes taped up carefully, stacked up against the wall that's only lighted up by the lamp in the corner. 7 o'clock and the seconds ticking, tired out limbs from heaving up the boxes of Sehun's belongings up to his apartment. Their apartment for awhile. 

 Luhan wants it be theirs, together,  for a little bit longer than a while. 

 They don't unpack. Instead, they do other things, like a sharp intake of breath when Sehun pushes himself against Luhan in a hug, pressing kisses on his brow bone, nose, forehead, and cheeks like they're his own little secrets that God forbid anyone take from him. 

 Sundays were for the hangover soups and long strolls along food stands alone. 

 "I haven't kissed you enough," he says in between gasps when Luhan tugs on the hem of his collar to pull him down so that they're the same height. "I haven't kissed you enough and I've wanted to for so long."

 "We have a lot of time," Luhan says, and a few words of Mandarin curses slips through his almost perfect Korean when he peeks through long lashes and catches sight of high cheekbones and lips against his. Sehun's mouth is soft, the subtle curves and the flick of tongue against his. "Unpack..." he says, strained, when Sehun pulls away for a moment give a short peck at the tip of his nose. "We should unpack."

 "We should, shouldn't we?"

 "We should," Luhan echoes. "So it'll feel real. Because right now I swear to fuck I'm in a dream and if we don't unpack right now it won't feel like reality, it won't feel like...like you're actually here,  _with me_."

 Sehun's lips leaves a name on Luhan's hairline. "You say silly things, hyung."

 Luhan pushes his clothes to the other side of his closet, removing clothes from his drawers and making room for Sehun's. Their fingers brush when Sehun hands him neat bundles of sweatshirts and jeans. "You're sure...about wanting me to stay here? It'll be a few long months."

 Luhan laughs, stacking up the jeans neatly in the closet. "I had tried every excuse to get you to stay the night at my place, because..." he recalls Sun Wei, and he almost forgets that the voice and the boy didn't existed. Almost. "You help me sleep and I loved waking up in your arms, even though I couldn't admit anything like to myself."

 All of Sehun's clothes folded in their jointed closet, some that Luhan knows he'll take for the night because they're big and smell like pines. Sehun's laptop charging next to Luhan's, two phone cables instead of one now.   
 Luhan would be a liar to say he wasn't sad to see the bare, empty shampoo shelf, Hyunjae's shampoos and fruity soaps gone. Her purple toothbrush tossed by her own hands; the spare makeup bag left behind because she forgot. He's sad, but not for the kind of reasons where there's love involved. There's a kind of sadness that leaves the lost of a friend and trust. 

 A mess of unpacking Sehun's copious amounts shoes, a few laces on bright baby blue converses that Sehun promises to un-knot the jumble for Luhan's sake. "It might take awhile to unpack everything," Sehun says, tucking in the rest of his shoes in the boxes. "Maybe you should sleep, hyung, I don't want to keep you up."

 "Shut up," Luhan tugs at the box that sounds like more clothes. "This makes me happy." He offers a lopsided grin to a bashful Sehun, who's so bright in blond and seemingly carved out like mosaics against the gray setting of Luhan's apartment. _Their_ , apartment. 

 Sehun presses his chest against Luhan's back, his belt grazing the outline of Luhan's spine, and he shivers. "Let's make hot chocolate. I'll unpack." There's hot breath that stirs Luhan's skin and his insides. 

 A few hours later and plates with greasy residues and clumps of remaining rice sits between them on the floor, because the dining table is occupied by all of Sehun's manwhas and textbooks. Luhan doesn't mind, because his feet brushes against Sehun's jeaned knees and Sehun looks a whole lot more beautiful up close with a grain of rice that sticks on the corner of his lip. 

 "We're together," Luhan says. And it's out of the blue, but Sehun doesn't protest but only brightens. 

 "Yeah," he agrees. "We are."

 "We're together," Luhan repeats, his smile widening as he leans in a bit closer after setting down chopsticks and pushing aside the rilakumma mugs. "You're mine, I'm...I'm yours." The words  _yours_  and  _mine_  held ties and frayed ropes to a darker sort of hue, to a 17 year old with rosy cheeks and sculpted cheeks and jaws from a higher up. Pretty, starless hands that had touched and probed at a child's skin and a child's heart,  _mine, you're mine, say I'm yours._

 Except now, all ties have been severed to those words, the few ropes out of many he'll cut. Because  _mine, you're mine_ , and  _I'm yours_  are now built upon the idea of Sehun and kissable lips that presses itself against soft flesh of necks and foreheads.

 "Most definitely," the grain on the corner of Sehun's lips is gone. "Hyung."  
A stack of empty boxes that they'll recycle tomorrow, along with slippers and socks at the bedside. Good nights left pressed and tattooed into each others neck and collar bones, their legs lost and entangled in fancy duvets and Poporo blankets. 

 "I'm going to hug you," Luhan's voice is muffled under the blanket. "I'm going to hold you as I sleep."

 Sehun, without doubt, drapes toned arms across Luhan's torso, a bit of his sweatshirt had risen up and exposing a strip of faint hair down his navel. There's a smile between his lips when against Luhan's forehead, careful strokes up and down the side of the taller one.

 A bedroom that God has forgotten, maybe it had a spark of its own paradise under the duvets and untouched yearbooks. 

   


➳➳➳

 

 

 

   


"Hyung?"

 "Yeah?"

 "You fit nicely in my arms."

➳➳➳

 

 Kisses over the sink that has its play in toothpaste and a desirably hot touch under the sweater, risking all sorts of principles that new couples took with only the intimate hand holding and first week anniversaries with Polaroids and a receipt at the movies to prove so. Instead, there's the roll of a fuck between tongues and grazing teeth, only a few roses on each others neck as their receipt.

 "Are we going too fast?" There's a hesitation in Luhan, when Sehun leans down to rest his face against his small bare shoulders in front of foggy mirrors, their name wiped on it and already dripping. "Don't you want to do those things? Like 100 day anniversaries or dates in suits and ties?" Luhan asks in a hushed whisper, but he leans back into Sehun. 

 "I'd do anything," Sehun says, reaching over him for the crinkled tube of toothpaste, a messy attempt in grabbing his own toothbrush over his shoulders. "We can do all of those things, cook, eat, Polaroids. I want you happy."

 "I am happy." 

 A happiness counted by the home runs, a bank statement saying he has spent over 30,000 won a week at a small bubble tea store. Not that Luhan has to buy sweet drinks and pearls to see Sehun, but the count of joy and smiles is voluntarily higher with the gist of cute cartoons on plastic cups. 

 Luhan hears the small voice in his head, only when it's quiet outside in the early mornings when Sehun's still snoring slightly against Luhan's forehead. Sometimes it's louder, the chains he had forged in this lifetime clinking against the walls of his brains. 

 Those times, he'd bury his face in closer to Sehun, and the voices go faint. 

 "I feel so young," Luhan sighs, his tie pulled up as it should, and his shirt tucked in so the tail isn't showing. "Like I'm not 25," his eyes flickers to Sehun, who's hands are busy working the coffee machine. 

 "You are young," Sehun retorts. He's wearing a powder blue turtle neck that seems to shockingly kiss his honey hair with a compliment. Luhan, does the same. "25 is young."

 "You're younger," Luhan sets out the sugar and cream jars for Sehun, brushing legs and arms. "Anything out of place here for you?" It's been a few days since Sehun has moved in, all the empty cardboard boxes recycled, two reading glasses by the desk and neat stacks of manwhas that he reads before falling asleep. 

 "I feel at home," Sehun says. "It's been awhile since I had that feeling."

 "Me too."

 They don't talk about their friends. Jongdae, Hyunjae, Ten and Jaehyun are all aware—especially Jaehyun, who keeps making kissy faces at the window whenever Luhan drops Sehun off to work—and they're...they're still there. Hyunjae, though not talking to Luhan, he knows she doesn't care. 

A break of words and a break of hands that pulled for four years, Hyunjae is free, finally, a soft mention from her and him at separate times to their friends. " _She broke up with me_ ," he had said over a cup of ginseng tea. In a way, she did.

 "You're still Luhan to me," Jongdae had said when Luhan called him late at night when Sehun was fast asleep beside him. "I'm so happy for you."

 Luhan is learning how to breathe again. 

   


➳➳➳

 

 

 "I was bullied." That's not the right word. "When I kissed someone as a kid. I kissed a boy."

  _I was violated._

 A web of hands from two different people, a low-light in the lamp that keeps enough light for Sehun to trace the slope of Luhan's nose, and plant his lips right below it, soft and plush that feels like they're both kissing velvet. "No one will touch you anymore." 

 Luhan comes home a bit later than Sehun, by an hour. Sehun is no cook, but neither is Luhan. But if anything, the former is the better one at handling the stove and setting out rice bowls and kimchi—Luhan feels loved.

 "I kissed a lot of girls," Luhan swallows, staring down at his half-opened collar, the tie strewn somewhere. Maybe on the couch or in the back of Sehun's pockets. "Just to prove them wrong."

 Kyungsoo and Chanyeol had commented earlier during work how Luhan glowed with happiness for the past few days. Seulgi, sometimes shoots him a knowing smile. 

 "It's okay," Sehun whispers, eyes gentle and full with such fondness that makes Luhan forget he's the hyung and want to tug on his shirt and kiss him until they both forget the alarm clock. "I think...we all end up doing that. Just to pretend."

 "We did a lot of things," Luhan says, but it's a light, breezy sort of tone. They wash the dishes with Luhan's arms hanging off both of Sehun's shoulders, splashing soap and water at the older and dissolving into laughter that should last for days. 

   


➳➳➳

Seulgi fails at suppressing a giggle when Luhan came into the VERILLI building, the softest cashmere in baby blue that belongs to Sehun, and a wool coat that seems to hang off his shoulders and hide his hands—also Sehun's. "Not funny," Luhan mumbles, not because he's disconcerted but because the scarf is covering half his face. He's a few minutes later that he should be, due to the 21-year old's nagging and pestering. 

 "You look cozy," she comments, tugging at the red hat that's obnoxiously bright. Most definitely Sehun's. "And colorful. You're not the type to sport color, Lu-ssi," she says breezily, virtually teasingly.

 "We can drop the formalities," Luhan says, a bit clearer now that his scarf is unraveled and pressed against his chest neatly. 

 "Oppa, then," she decides, stacking up the files in her hand against the glossy marble desk. "Have you fixed that problem you had a few weeks ago?"

 Luhan remembers the break room here, exchanges while clutching coffee cups. "I fixed it," he finally says, offering the intern a smile. "That talk you gave me really drilled my gears back in place."

 Her smile is like Sehun's, except his is without coral lip gloss. They're both...bright. Genuine. "You look happy," she agrees. She offers a piece of caramel from the bowl on the desk. "Is that tall man who comes here everyday part of why you're happy?" 

 Luhan's eyes widens, before turning his gaze to the floor to stare at polished tiles. "I..."

 Sehun comes during the lunch breaks, a taro milk tea for Luhan and a gloved hand that takes Luhan for a quick lunch date down the street everyday. Kyungsoo complains about being stuck with Chanyeol for too much and too long, but there's nothing in the way of crossing the streets with Sehun for a bit. 

 "His name is Sehun," he breathes out. His heart starts to pick up pace, and gripping the leather strap bag, he recalls Jongdae's words, the world isn't the same as it was 10 years ago. It's okay now, Luhan thinks, just a little bit. "Oh Sehun, he's younger than me."

 "Is he the reason why you're happy?" Seulgi asks again, her elf-like eyes twinkling and looks as if they're smiling by themselves. "That's a good reason to be happy."

 When Luhan looks at Seulgi, she's not recoiling in shock or disturbed in any sort. Almost nonchalant, and that takes off some stress. 

 It's okay, Luhan. "Yeah," he says quietly, and wonders if Seulgi could hear him. She does. "He's my reason." Luhan squirms, even if it's just the intern who's a lot wiser in years considering her age. Even if it's just Seulgi who has nothing over him to make him writhe in pain. "You don't...you don't find that...disgusting?" You don't find _me_ disgusting?

 Seulgi gives him a long look, long lashes that osculates her cheekbones when she blinks. "There's nothing disgusting about love," she says, almost incredulous. "My friend, I mentioned. She...she thought it was disgusting. That _she_ was disgusting. Thought everyone believed it was disgusting." Seulgi's heels are tall, fashionably blatant when she shifts uncomfortably. "I wish she listened to me."

 "I'm glad," the drink in Luhan's hand is still hot, and there are even little hearts in sharpie on it. "That I listened to you." There's snow outside, but Luhan's still shivering inside the building.

 "Me too," Seulgi blinks, tugging at a strand of natural hair between royal purple nails. "You should bring him to the Christmas party," she pauses. "You are going, right?" Kyungsoo's waiting in the office for his hot tea, because he favors the number 4 on the menu there.

 "I..." Sharing Sehun's smiles and everything beautiful about him to his co workers under expensive dining hall lights in the venue rented, slipping his hand in his with matching ties. 

 It seems also terrifying. 

 "Give your co workers some credit, oppa," Seulgi urges him, offering a sympathetic smile. "We're your friends, too." 

 Luhan heads up to his office with a lot of thoughts, careful not to trip over any. 

 "Hyung!" Chanyeol beams, his Santa tie flopping in front of Luhan's face when he opens the door. "Ohh, oh,  _oh!_ Tea, much better than the coffee Kyungsoo brought," he sticks his tongue out at him, snatching the one with charmingly resplendent drawings and bubble letters with CHAN YODA scribbled in Sehun's handwriting. Luhan grins at the sight of an impatient Chanyeol trying to teeth the straw, getting a sip before burning his tongue. 

 "Thank you, hyung," Kyungsoo says when Luhan hands the last one to him, sipping happily and carefully on his heart infested tea drink. Luhan peels off all the layers Sehun had forced him to put on, tossing them onto the hanger but extra careful with Sehun's belongings. He keeps the soft scarf on. 

 Kyungsoo's computer screen is lit, opened to laborious articles and a window in English that Luhan can barely read. "Your cup is so intricate," he furrows his brows together, a teasing tone to his voice. "Looks like Sehun spent a longer time on your doodles, is that why you're a few minutes later?"

 Luhan shakes his head, his cheeks warm as he stares at the red, pink and white hearts scribbled with new sharpies Sehun had bought. "I was talking to Seulgi downstairs," he explains. "She was asking me about the project in February."

 Chanyeol tea is almost half-empty. "You've been chatting with Seulgi a lot lately," he pipes up, removing his lips from the red straw. "Is she why you're so happy?"

 Luhan looks away. 

 "Both you and Hyunjae moved on rather quickly," Kyungsoo says slowly, as if processing the words himself as he speaks. "I'm surprised. But I'm glad you're happy."

 "I am sad," Luhan corrects his friends carefully, treading on thin ice that dares him to shatter the whole. "Just not like that kind of sadness." His tea tastes sweet, Sehun must've popped an extra scoop of sugar when Luhan wasn't looking. "It didn't end badly."

 Kyungsoo stares at him for awhile, deep in thought. 

 "So is it Seulgi?" Chanyeol's chair squeaks and scrape across the floor when he rolls next to Luhan, bumping his arm rest with his. "The pretty elf girl? With dark hair?" Luhan's eyes settles on Chanyeol's nose, floppy ears, and the silvery hair that has its roots exhibiting already. He looks anywhere except his eyes. 

 "She does have dark hair," Luhan's tired. "And resembles an elf. But it's not Seulgi...it's not her." There's a lot of emails to click through, a lot of articles to edit and several to review.

 "Really? She seems to talk to you a lot, especially noticeable when she doesn't chat much with the other workers, but she talks a lot when it comes to you."

 "We're strangers," Luhan's breathing sounds a lot louder when he does. They're not strangers, not really as far as lexicons and definitions define what they are. They're just strangers to whatever transpired in their past years. Strangers; oblivious. "That's why we talk. I'm not dating her," he empathizes, and there's a slow nod from Chanyeol.

 "Whatever and whoever," Kyungsoo chimes in, nudging Chanyeol aside with a look that says a lot. "We're glad you're happy, we're your friends and...you happy means something big."

 "Was I not happy before?" Luhan asks teasingly, but all the things that were brief lightens and his chest feels less messy. It's a rhetorical question, but his friends just shoots the idea of a smile, before knocking heads with papers and monitors for work. 

 Fingers drumming against his dashboard, the hours unraveling gradually. Somewhere in between 9 and 10 o'clock, furious typing cease to be, maybe a few push of the backspace and enter key. Instead, he leans back to his leather chair, pushing aside the edit for some article on the latest European fashion in Milan. He'll finish later. 

   


9:34 AM

Sehunnie♡♡: am i coming for lunch again?

 Luhan had been working the rice cooker a few nights ago when Sehun stole his phone to add hearts to his contact.

 

   


Luhan: I want you to again, like everyday, you have dance tonight again

 Luhan: I want to see you

Sehunnie♡♡: should you be really texting me, you're at work hyung

Luhan: You are, too

   
Luhan's sure he would've added hearts and more to Sehun's name, even if Sehun didn't do it himself. 

 "Texting at work," Chanyeol muses, his eyes glinting and his near-perfect teeth shows with a lopsided grin. "Oh my, hyung, you really are getting younger." Luhan glares at him, chucking a pen at his face, it bouncing off his dewy cheeks and the younger one frowns. "I have two abusive friends slash coworkers."

 "The other way around," Kyungsoo mutters. 

 "Oh Kyungie," Chanyeol diverts his attention from Luhan, who goes back to staring at his phone as Sehun spams and spams with more peach stickers. "Don't forget our college time bonds!"

   


Sehunnie♡♡: i want it to be lunch right now

Sehunnie♡♡: hyunggggg

Sehunnie♡♡: i want to kiss you

Inner Luhan writhes in screams and throws himself against fucking cupcakes. 

Outer Luhan stares at his phone screen.

   


Luhan: you say weird things

 He tosses his phone across his desk, before he can flush into crimson. Chanyeol is right—he rarely is—Luhan feels young. With Hyunjae there were fancy dinners in restaurants best suited for doctors like his father and a woman of status like his deceased mother. The occasional peck that screams mannerism, sometimes it's longer if they feel the need to be loved, even if it's conditionally terrible. With her, he felt so safe and at ease externally. 

 But with him, there are takeouts from Chinese places and Jongdae's restaurants, preferably black bean noodles and cans of Dr. Pepper that bubbles in Luhan's mouth. Breakfast with cereal or more, served with back hugs and Sehun teasing. Lunches were for the public, at Kyuwang's Diner for a quick sandwich and a soft kiss when no one is looking. Dinners meant sweatpants and Luhan snuggling against Sehun, pretending to watch a drama on TV when really he's just tracing his jawline with careful fingers. 

 They both stayed for the bedtimes with hot kisses pressed to chapped lips and a hand that roams under thin shirts that makes both of them shiver. And God, it felt so terrible that Luhan loves it, the thrill of kissing and touching someone he shouldn't kiss or touch. 

 There's a lot of things they shouldn't do, anyways.

 Kyungsoo pulls on his jacket, stuffing his wallet and phone in his back pocket. "Lunch, hyung?" Chanyeol stands up too, stretching and rubbing at his eyes, blurry from staring at a computer for too long. "We're going across the street again for that book cafe. Kris said it had great deep house music and buffalo chicken." Chanyeol seems to get excited at the thought of it.

 Luhan smiles, pressing the  _OFF_  button on his monitor. "Not today, I'm going with Sehun for lunch," he checks his wrist watch. "He has his lunch today at the same time."

 "You always go with Sehun," Chanyeol whines. "Give me love!"

 Luhan laughs, wrapping the scarf around his neck and snatching his phone off the desk. He bides his friends a goodbye, hurrying down to the lobby of VERILLI's, in blue scarves and red hats. 

   


12:01 PM

 Sehun♡♡: it's snowing, hyung

 Sehun♡♡: if you catch a cold i won't kiss you

   
 Luhan sees Sehun before he does. And it is snowing, his freckles more prominent and delightfully star-speckled like, a few flakes of snow melting into his skin. Luhan, in slow, deliberate steps in dark shoes, walks a bit closer until his hand reaches out to tug on the end of Sehun's jacket that hugs him so well. 

 Sehun blinks and looks up instantly, a few strands of sunlight hair curls at his temple, a smile so wide that he wonders how many smile wrinkles he'll have when he's older.

   
 

   


Sehun♡♡: you look so cute in that big scarf

 

 Luhan scoffs, slapping his arm. "Oh, don't be so cliche and be like those people who texts the person who's actually in front of them." 

 Sehun opens his mouth to say something, before his eyes flicker to something behind Luhan. "Oh, Sehunnie!" It's Chanyeol, with earmuffs on but his ears still sticking out. Kyungsoo is right beside him, his nose in deep with his phone and texting someone quickly. 

 "Hi, hyung," Sehun says warmly, Chanyeol jogging up to him, puffs of air collapsing within a few seconds. "Are you two going out for lunch?"

 "Uh huh," it's Kyungsoo who answers. "You're stealing Luhan away for lunch?" Sehun laughs sheepishly, Luhan finding it too fucking adorable.

 "Sehun doesn't hit me with bento boxes," Luhan says flatly, eyes on Chanyeol who offers a weak chuckle. 

 "That was one time."

 "It was three times." 

 "If you want to go with them, hyung, we can have lunch tomorrow," Sehun offers softly, a genuine smile that's even more beautiful over Seoul snow that will get dirtied with dirt and slosh soon. 

 "No," Luhan shakes his head. "I want...to...have lunch with you," he whispers. "I see these dorks everyday, for like, 6 hours."

 "6 hours too long with Chanyeol," Kyungsoo adds in. "Okay, we're going to get going. Hurry on Luhan-hyung, you're going to get sick again." Kyungsoo grins, tugging Chanyeol by the sleeve mercilessly. 

 When they're out of earshot, Luhan grabs Sehun's hands that are too cold. "Did you want me to go away with them?" he asks quietly, playing with his chilled fingers and knuckles. "Were you busy for lunch?"

 Sehun shakes his head, and wraps his hand around Luhan. No one sees them. "I just didn't want to take you away from your friends," he says, and they start away, hands apart so they're stuffed in pockets. But they walk closely together, arms bumping into each other and chafing their coats. "I take you away too much, and I don't want..." he's chewing gum, but it slows down as his brows knit together in doubt. "I don't want you to get sick of me."

 "Shut up," Luhan deadpans, his walking falters but he keeps up. "I'm not going to get sick of you, stop saying that. I...I like you, okay? I like you too much and that's a lot," he feels like the world is hearing his secrets. "I like,  _like_  you recklessly, and my feelings...I—," he looks away from Sehun, his face scrunching up as they make a turn for the sidewalk. "God, this is so fucking cheesy. They just get bigger, okay? I like you a lot, so...so much and that liking is going to be a lot tomorrow and the day after."

 "You make me blush," Sehun says, but his features softens and his eyes are animated. "You're such a cute, chocolate-hyung." He leans down a bit so his breath tickles the shell of Luhan's ear, not suspicious enough but intimate enough that Luhan's insides collapse.

 "You're too much." 

Kyuwang's has already been of favor with Sehun, his favorite stop-in when he passes by. "I know the owner," he says, tugging Luhan into the diner. They're hit by a wave of heat from the heater, Sehun pulling off his hat and exposing matted hair that Luhan itches to rake his fingers in for hours on end with Sehun napping in his lap. "He was really helpful when I got here, a friend of my brother, actually. So...he knows, about my preferences," he adds. "So it's okay here, we can loosen up here."

 Luhan nods. 

 He lets Sehun do all the ordering, because he knows the menu better than he does. Luhan opts to staring at Sehun's lips as he talks. "What's wrong hyung?" Sehun asks once the waiter went away, the corners of his mouth taking a bow and his brows furrowing. "You look...pale. Are you sick?" Sehun reaches over to press a palm to Luhan's forehead, but he dodges it and shakes his head.

 "No, no," he says, and leans his head on Sehun's shoulder, though it's stiff. There's no one else but the workers and an old man in the diner. "I'm just tired."

 "Are you?" Sehun's voice gets quieter, and he reaches out to stroke the side of Luhan's jaw in careful touches.

 "Kyungsoo and Chanyeol asked why I was so happy today," he says a bit too quickly. Maybe. He's not sure anymore. "And I wanted to say you, I wanted to say Oh Sehun. But I," he shuts his eyes for a bit. "I wanted to say your name and say that we're together, but I'm...I don't know."

 "I know," Sehun replies without missing a beat. Luhan doesn't deserve Sehun. 

 "10 years ago, or 11 if you count it, people tried to _ungay_ me," it's so quiet. Sehun stiffens, and Luhan buries his face into the side of his arm quickly, for comfort and for the smell of pine. He won't go into detail, never. "It hurt me. It nearly killed me in the insides and I wanted it all to end. And now—I have you and I'm so damn happy, but I'm still...still scared."

 Luhan looks up to see how pale Sehun is. 

 "We have time," Sehun manages a reply, pulling Luhan in closely. "Don't you ever worry about things like that. You have me. And I have you." He presses a lingering kiss to his hairline, before Luhan sits up and straightens up. "In Daegu...my friends stopped being friends. I wished I took back the things I said, like me coming out. But in a perspective, things ended up right for me, _I found someone_." He looks down at his faded jeans as of results in the washer. "They thought I would never." 

 The food comes as quickly as Sehun said it would, steaming rice and Luhan's favorites in spiciness. They eat fast, because they both have to get back to work. But eating fast doesn't stop them from feeding each other like the cliche couples, or wiping off rice on each others lips and murmuring saccharin words to ears that has heard it all but never tired.

 It's snowing outside and it's so warm. 

   


➳➳➳

 Little Luhan with lanky arms and too thin legs. The adults around him with power, money, and tequila telling him to grow up well to be just like them, drunk, sad, and filthy rich—euphemisms, they say, euphemisms. Under all those mannerisms and piano lessons, he was taught about families. That everyone had one, a mom, a dad, and they go on to have kids. And that he too, will have a wife and have kids. 

 He wasn't told that not all families are picture perfect, but he picks up the pace after seeing his father take a smoke outside alone while his mom flirted shamelessly with a man maybe seven years younger than her.

  _No, I don't want that kind of family._  

   


➳➳➳

 

 

 "Wake up, hyung." 

 There's a dip of the mattress, Sehun slipping back under the covers, cold hands teasing Luhan's stomach. He gasps, writhing in sudden contact. "It's Saturday, let me sleep," Luhan mutters, burying his face back into the pillow, not even going to pull up his shirt because it ends up rising up anyways. 

 "Play with me," Sehun plops down, and presses a cool kiss to Luhan's chin, leaving a minty feeling and a giggle. "It's a Saturday and I want to hang out with you." 

 "Hang out with me in bed," Luhan mumbles a reply, tugging onto another pillow to hug. "The bed is so fucking comfortable in the mornings."

 Sehun scoffs. "Fine. At least cuddle me instead of a pillow." He rests his head against Luhan's neck as he says so, wet hands that are warming up under heated blankets and human skin. 

 "What time is it?" Luhan asks, a little bit more awake but the drowsiness is there. "And what time did you get up at?" Luhan turns his head a little bit, Sehun's lashes unreasonably and beautiful long up close. 

 "It's 7 something," Sehun says. "I got up at 6." Luhan makes a noise of disbelief, taking in the thought of Sehun getting up and moving around so early when he got home sweaty and late from the dance studio. "I wanted to surprise you with breakfast, but..." he chuckles, and Luhan leans his back closer to Sehun, who wraps his arms tightly around him. "You're so irresponsible. Not even groceries in the fridge?"

 Luhan blinks, before groaning. "I have the takeouts and rice. And eggs." The blanket tickles Luhan's chin, ruining all chance of falling asleep. It's not like he had one in the first place, with Sehun's touch glued to him.

 Touching, it has always been of the edge for Luhan. Touching, like hand holding, resting chins against shoulders or hugging were all things Luhan did, hugging and hand holding. But there were things not even Hyunjae could do, pressing palms against bare shoulders and stomachs were devastatingly hurtful things, because Sun Wei did all of them and he continues to do them in Luhan's thoughts.

 But Sehun...Sehun is different. He does the hand holding, the resting chin against shoulders and hugging, he does them all and he keeps doing so. Kissing Sehun doesn't bring the taste of bitter Queen's Ale as it does, because Sun Wei liked to sneak into the cellar for a bottle or three before shutting the door to Luhan's bedroom. Touching him, didn't make him recoil.

 That's something to love.

 "We're going grocery shopping later, then," Sehun says, rolling over so he's resting on his back, groping for his phone somewhere on the bed. "I want my boyfriend healthy."

 Boyfriend. Luhan flushes and tugs the duvet over his head hastily. "Shut up." Luhan turns a little bit, so he's facing Sehun on his side. "Are you happy?" Luhan tugs on the soft sweatshirt that he had insisted Sehun wear because last night was one of the chillier one. "With...your preferences?" 

 Whatever Sehun was doing on his phone, his fingers hover over the keys, and he looks over at Luhan dubiously. "What's with all the thick talk this morning?"

 "I just was wondering," Luhan shakes his head. "You don't have to answer, I'm sorry—"

 "I'm indifferent," Sehun says quickly when he sees how Luhan's face slumps into a blank stare. "I mean...it's been hard. I wasn't accepted and if I could choose, maybe I'd be like everyone else. It would've been easier."

 Luhan says nothing.

 "Not sure if I would've been happier," Sehun finishes. "Because my life would change drastically and...I like how I am. I truly love where I am right now, even if it took a few falls." Sehun pulls Luhan in close to him, Luhan's ear pressing against Sehun's hand as he peppers kisses on the soft skin of his forehead. Luhan shuts his eyes, letting himself fall into the mess that is Sehun. 

 "You really are so poetic," Luhan says, and Sehun laughs against his skin. Luhan reaches out to cradle Sehun's jaw, and he swallows. "You really are beautiful."

 "Stop saying weird things."

 "I mean it," Luhan says lightly, though his features say otherwise. "I...I hated being called pretty. I am, I acknowledge it but it hurts so much. I was a 12 year old who was gay, pretty, and friendless—the scapegoat for all problems and a little toy for people." Luhan laughs, and Sehun winces because it sounds awful. "I hate it."

 "You're not pretty," Sehun says sternly, sitting up as he pulls Luhan up as well. "You're too sad to be pretty. Your lips are fucking liars, on that night you said you'd kiss me and left me the next day." Luhan winces, remembering the dance. "Your eyes...cloudy, they're cloudy. You're much too marred to be pretty." Luhan shivers, and Sehun notices, too, wrapping broad arms around the smaller one. Caged in his arms, his sigh is rusty but that's okay. It's safe here. 

 "Are you really the younger one in this relationship?" Sehun's laugh feels nice against Luhan's head, who buries his face in deeper, gripping onto fistfuls of sleepwear shirts. 

 Saturdays are prettier now.

 Sehun isn't perfect. Luhan notices when he brushes his teeth that he forgets to screw the cap back on the toothpaste, and sometimes walk around with just one sock because he forgets to take the other off when he dives into bed, whining about how Yixing is going to work them to death. He has his moments, where he acts his age, whiny and clingy but all the things that makes him beautiful. 

 Beautiful, in the sense of envy of the things Luhan wishes he had done as a 21 year old. Instead, 4 years ago he was in Ryeowook's office once a week and had Jongdae pry the packs of Marlboro's and Lucky Strikes from his pale fingers before he could get in a smoke. 

 "Let's not eat at home," Luhan says, buttoning up his shirt but leaving the top one open. "Unless you want excessively chewy chicken and clumpy rice for breakfast.” Sehun makes a fast as he tightens the laces on his sneakers. 

 "You're not wearing enough layers, hyung."

 Luhan looks down, frowning. "I'm wearing a turtleneck and a jacket, with these long-ass scarves you gave me—"

 Sehun tugs on Luhan's arm, pulling him back to their room. "Gloves, hyung. You need gloves and earmuffs."

 "No I don't!" Sehun doesn't say anything, only scoffing before rummaging through their drawers, toss a bundled up pair of gloves and red earmuffs. "These are too colorful."

 "You need color in life," Sehun retorts. "Colors are happy." He lets Sehun tighten the earmuffs around him, and doesn't say anything when his fingers linger at the shell of Luhan's red ears. "You're such a small hyung."

 "Stop, I'll cut you." Luhan pulls Sehun's hands away from his ears but keeps them in his, swinging them slightly as they head back to the front door. "Do you like coffee? I mean, like coffee-shop-kind-of coffees?" Sehun nods, grabbing the car keys from the table because Luhan momentarily forgets things. 

 "I'm driving," Sehun clarifies, "I haven't been able to drive at all lately because you've been insisting you'd drive me."

 "I just want to be good to you."

 "You are," Sehun says, "good to me. You've done a lot for me." I also hurt you once. "And you're here, with me. You are so good to me." Luhan's hand is still in Sehun's, all gloved and curling in his fingers. 

 "Ahjumma's coffee shop makes sweet coffees, like the way you drink it." There's no one in the lobby when they reach the bottom of the stairs, except for the cleaner who's vacuuming the carpets. Luhan still doesn't let go. Don't do this to him. "She makes really good muffins, too. I worked there in high school."

 "You seem to have good ties with this coffee shop."

 "I do," it's cold outside and Luhan pulls the scarf up higher so his voices are blurry. "I spent a lot of time in there, in my loose school uniforms and my homework. She helped me with Korean."

 "Your Korean is really good," Sehun pulls away from Sehun to unlock side doors of his car. "Nearly flawless."

 "It's all thanks to her and Jongdae," Luhan rips the earmuffs off of his head, earning a frown from him. "What? It's warm in the car here, I won't get sick."

 "I won't kiss you if you get sick."

 Luhan sticks his tongue out. "Then don't kiss me." Completely mature. There's a stash of dance magazines in the back seat, and he frowns. He remembers Kyungsoo mentioning a dance company watching him. He remembers Sehun wanting a stable life. 

 There are also a box of textbooks from his dorm at the bottom, with a bundled up bunch of sharpies he uses to doodle on Luhan's drinks and his heart. Luhan smiles slightly, because the car has so much of Sehun. "You're not wearing enough layers for the winter, either." Luhan points out almost accusingly, eyes narrowing at only the knitted beanie and a sweatshirt. "Hypocrite."

 "I don't get sick as easily as you," Sehun replies, eyes crinkling when he beams.

 "And what if you do?"

 "Then you can stay home and take care of me." The skies are cloudy, and Luhan wonders when it'll snow harder than it is right now. 

 Luhan likes where they are. 

 

 

   


➳➳➳

 Parking the car and hurrying down the crosswalk during the signal, shoes stepping in muddy snow slush and hopping over the curbs. "Her coffee shop is really quiet," Luhan says, make a beeline and dodging the busy passersby whose face is glued to their phone screen. "There's more people on the weekdays because they don't have to wait in line at the big name ones."

 "You seem to find all the gems in the city," Sehun muses, raking a hand through his hair before pressing down his hat again. 

 "Hyunjae was the one that told me about the tea shop," Luhan stuffs his hands in his pocket, crinkling his nose at the smell of a dumpster in the alley they pass by. "I'm glad, she did."

 "I would've found you anyways."

 Luhan pushes open the door to the coffee shop, the bell jingling and signaling. There's a young girl sitting in the back of the shop, typing something on a laptop and slurping her drink loudly after taking a pause from typing. Sehun stiffens by a margin, and Luhan doesn't have to ask if he remembers the day where Luhan shouted and shouted just to keep him safe from Sun Wei's words. 

 Sliding into the chairs at the front, Luhan unravels all of his scarves, earmuffs and gloves, sighing comfortably when he's only left in his turtleneck and free form the choke hold of the numerous layers Sehun had forced on him. "This cafe is pretty now that I got a chance to really look around," Sehun says, eyes wandering and pinpointing on the wooden walls with photographs from all over the world, flowerpots on every table and a chalkboard with a motto in English on it. "It's cozy."  
 "It's my second home." Luhan taps against the edge of the table mindlessly. Ahjumma appears from the back, her gray and white painted hair tied back in a bun with blue chopsticks. Luhan's smile widens when she comes over, no need for a notepad to take down orders because she had the brightest and best memory than anyone Luhan knew. "Ahjumma," he greets, taking her fragile hand in his and giving it a warm squeeze.

 "Luhannie," she beams, her voice full of youth and joy. "You look well these days, handsome and all smiles!" he looks over at Sehun and gives him a soft smile. 

 "Thank you," he turns to Sehun. "Ahjumma, this is Oh Sehun."

 "Ah. You were the one with Luhan a few weeks ago," she notes breezily, and Sehun winces. She doesn't notice, though, only smiling with puffy lips and clasping her hands together, his bracelets and rings clinking together. 

 "Good morning, and nice to meet you again," Sehun says with civility, not missing a beat on honorifics and mannerisms. "I am a good friend of Luhan's, it is nice to meet someone who watched him grow up." He offers one of those charismatic smiles that's enough to swoon the shop vendors and Luhan. "What was he like, as a teenager?"

 "Terribly sad," she snips, giving Luhan a look. "Sad and homesick. He was like that until he was 17." She ruffles up Luhan's hair, who bites down on his lower lip so he wouldn't protest. "A good boy, though. He treats his friends beautifully and lucky when it comes to friends." She offers a bright smile to Sehun.

 "I am lucky, when it comes to friends," Luhan says, not taking his eyes off Sehun. His eyes flickering afterwards, he turns his attention back to the ahjumma. "We're here for breakfast and coffee. My regulars and the same for his? Oh, but he likes his coffee sweet, please." Sehun chuckles, toying with the small sugar packets in the plastic container on the table. 

 She leaves, and Sehun's legs are so long that it brushes against Luhan. It's probably deliberate. "Ahjumma?" Sehun glances over at the short old woman who has a bit of life in her. "She seems more like a halmoni," Sehun says, dragging his words as he rests his chin on his hands. 

 Luhan shakes his head. "I don't want to replace her grandson," he says slowly, not for Sehun but for himself, rather. 

 "Grandson?"

 "He's a football athlete—for Manchester something." Luhan  _knows_  it's Manchester United, but there were doodling in his old binders and notebooks, swearing he'd play there one day with a boy that shared the basis of his common interest. They never did get to go there together, just one, the other left in Korea with nowhere to go. "I wouldn't want to replace him as grandson."

 Sehun making a noise of understanding, his eyes resting on Luhan's. Luhan coughs nervously, averting his eyes so that they're staring at his fingers. "I like the blond on you." He says breezily, though it's chopped up. "Pretty and it brings...out, your uh, eyes."

 Sehun laughs inwardly. "You like my eyes?" Luhan looks up, crinkling his nose. "Do you like everything?" Sehun's wearing his glasses, because he needs them to drive and hasn't bothered taking them off. And  _fuck_ , because Luhan's most definitely into glasses, especially the matted black frames Sehun has. His sweatshirt strings are uneven, one notable chewed on mindlessly when he thinks no one sees.

 "I only like you for your body."

 Sehun grins cheekily. "I only like you for your body, and your voice and smiles and I devastatingly like you for the times when you wear my clothes." Luhan fumbles over his breathing. 

 "Shut up."

 Ahjumma comes over with a tray full of breakfast and coffees, the black one for Luhan, the thicker and sweeter one for Sehun. And maybe Luhan catches a knowing look from her, he can't tell. 

 But he knows there are safe places for them—the coffee shop, the tea shop, their apartment and Kyuwang's. There are things that stops when they're lounging around in these safe places. Age seems to matter as much as the dust pans in the corner, because even if there's four years worth of gap between them, it doesn't stop the giggle fits and whining, and cradling fingers because they're fascinating. They can hug and hold hands under starless duvets and maybe plant kisses on pink lips if they dared. 

 "You like putting salt on your eggs?" Luhan blinks in a daze, tilting the silver head of the salt shaker. 

 "Oh, yeah." There's an unreasonably tall pile of salt on his eggs now. "Salt. It's uh, it brings out flavor." Frowning at his eggs, he flops it so the sand dune of salt topples over, mushed and hidden. "I have a question."

 "That's always a good thing to have," Sehun says, dumping another pack of sugar into his diabetic drink. "Yes, hyung?"  
There's something about city settings that makes it all dreamlike; enticing, even. Sitting in front of someone beautiful in a secret coffee shop. They can pretend they're not marred by bad things. "Christmas is next week," he looks away. "I...I'm not like Jongdae or Joonmyun who have a place to go home to. I'm staying. In Seoul."

 Sehun stops swirling his cup of coffee. "I don't have a place back in Daegu, either." Sehun offers a smile that looks sad. "I'll be here in Seoul, too."

 Luhan's heart seems to leap, and his shoulders straighten up. "You...are?"

 "I am."

 "Then," Luhan laughs a bit, because he feels like a sophomore again with a lot of pent up angst and fake love. "Do you want to find a home with me? We can start here, in Seoul or wherever. Our apartment would be a nice step?" It sounds like a question throughout the whole thing. 

 Sehun's eyes widens, bright and the faintest of smiles on pink lips with a kiss overdue. "A home. A home with you for Christmas," he looks down, "I'd really like that." His voice drops and skitters somewhere along the lines of husk and vulnerability. 

 "Christmas together?" Luhan asks again, though it's mostly to himself, to reassure him that yes, Sehun will be here for Christmas and he won't be alone in the sad company of Sun Wei again. 

 "I'd like to do everything together." 

 They eat in almost silence, only taking their eyes off each other to glance into the too-bright Seoul life, chewing and swallowing their breakfast seems to go so slow in contrast to teenagers rushing off into dates by the boutiques and adults disappearing into the taxis or into their phones. 

 A few people comes in, not even a glance and just a quick order of iced latte or whatever was strong enough. 

 Scrapping forks against plates greased up with the harsh remains of salt, eggs and bread, Luhan nudges Sehun's leg. "I didn't finish earlier." Sehun raises his brows, while dabbing at the corners of lips that Luhan wants to kiss. "I mean, I did, but, I was thinking. Thinking sort of hard and it took a while."

 "Hyung," Sehun reaches over to cloak Luhan's hand in his. "You really are so distant," he teases. 

 "VERILLI has a Christmas party this year, for the workers and their plus ones," Luhan's voice gets a little bit higher, anxiousness digging its way into his skull. "It's on Christmas Eve, so we can still have the entire 25th to ourselves, but I was just wondering..." Luhan's words start to falter when he catches the unreadable look on Sehun's face, shutting his mouth and regretting nearly every word. "You don't want to, huh?" He grimaces, wanting to recoil from the city's touch and just forget he asked. 

 "I..." Sehun's freckles are so prominent. "Do you want that? For your coworkers and friends to see us?" Sehun slumps back into his chair, contorted feelings of hope and confusion ruining his lashes. "I don't want you to be sad. God, I'd never want to see you sad."

 "I won't be sad." Luhan says, and his hands are shaking. A fallacy of sweatshirts and scarves don't divert the thought of being 12 and kissing a boy whose name is past his head and past this lifetime.  
And he's not going to ignore it, either, because he knows now, against the backdrop of a shop that harbored a young high school student with the desire to smoke and drink because it was the fastest way to wither away in a country with a language that's too hard. And Luhan would've, maybe, had it not been for his friends who pried those sticks and put the bottles back in his aunt's cellar, throwing a textbook and schoolwork at him instead. 

 And Luhan had ignored a lot of things. He had looked away from the sadness and longing in Hyunjae's eyes. Pretend he doesn't see Sehun unconsciously drumming his feet or fingers against dashboards, limbs itching to dance. Sometimes he talks vibrantly and ignores the way Jongdae forgets he's not smoking anymore and grabs the pen in between his teeth as if it's a cigarette. 

 But this—he won't ignore.

 "I want to." Luhan sits up straighter, and there's a sense of déjà vu again. "It'll be nice to see you in a tie and dress shirt instead of your tees and jeans," he says softly, the hand that isn't gripping onto his knees, reaching out to grasp a hand much larger than his, and he'll never get over how large Sehun's hands are, cupping every sort of guideline for Luhan in life. 

 "I'll wear a tie," Sehun's voice gets steadier. "I'll wear a dress shirt. I'll be there with you," Sehun looks down tentatively. "What if they treat you differently? Because of me?"

 Luhan stacks all of their finished places on top of each other, making room for just the dark wood of the table and spread out hands. "I spent almost half of my life wondering about that." They buy a plate with sweet Danish cremes, muffins and cookies to share from one abstract plate that Luhan remembers from the ahjumma's pottery phase. "You really do have a sweet tooth."

 "Who doesn't?" Sehun finishes off his cookie with a pop and dusting crumbs off his lips. "I'd eat sweets all day if someone let me."

 Luhan snorts. "I won't let you."

 "This won't work out then," Sehun breaks off another chunk of muffin. "You know, my brother used to call me Sweehun. Sometimes my friend called me Sehocolate, because that was my contact name," he says, carding his fingers through his own hair and un-matting all the strands. "Did you have any nicknames?"

 Luhan swallows. "No, just Lu." There are things Sehun doesn't have to know, like the nickname of 娘炮— _niang pao, niang pao, niang pao, xiao niang pao._ "Some very witty people called me Xiao Lu, Tao already told you."

 "You're forgetting something."

 "I don't think Lulu counts."

 Sehun makes a face. "Chocolate-hyung."

 Luhan presses a kiss to ahjumma's forehead and pats her on the back, murmuring that she should dress warmly in her old age. She only beams at him, her eyes lingering on Sehun a bit longer but never losing its touch.

   


➳➳➳

 The snow calms to a pending abeyance, but it wasn't as if there was much snowing in the beginning, anyways. "I think ahjumma knows," Luhan says breezily, pulling at the nape of his neck that's covered by a bright scarf. "I think she had an idea ever since I was 16, anyways."

 "16?"

 "I hung out with her grandson too much," Luhan says, hurrying along so he doesn't have to say anything more. "You wanted to go grocery shopping, right?" He fishes out the keys from his pocket because Sehun didn't have any room in his jeans or sweatshirt. "Were you looking for wholesale or organic?" 

 Sehun shrugs halfheartedly, and Luhan finds a debility in the way Sehun blinks, slow and hesitant to see the world again. "Any will be fine, hyung," he says, a smile following suit along with a grasp of knuckles and pressing them together, cold calloused hands against gloved ones. "What do you like to eat?"

 "You can cook?" 

 "I can make a few dishes," Sehun says nonchalantly, grazing his fingers against the bare skin where his wrists are exposed to unconditionally brisk weather. "No one was home for me after dance practice to make me meals, or they just left the house just quick enough to avoid—,"

 "Don't say things like that," Luhan says, shivering. "You're in Seoul now. You're...with me. And I like you."

 "I want to kiss you right now," Sehun says blankly. "Right now, in the streets. I want to kiss you like an exhibition." 

 Luhan gasps, before fumbling and shoving Sehun's chest weakly, who's laughter seems to fit the Christmasy mood. "You have weird kinks." Luhan runs around to the other side of the car, pulling at the door handle until Sehun beeps it and it opens. "Don't combine me with your kinks."

 "Do you have any, hyung?" Sehun asks loudly, a hint of teasing and inevitable curiosity seeps through. "Voyeurism, daddy kinks, diapers? Or tentacle?"

 " _Oh my God._ " Luhan shakes his head. "I'm breaking up with you, you're fucking gross."

 "Three months seems like a short amount of time," Sehun says, pulling into the cluttered street of intricate puzzle pieces—bikes, cars, taxis, buses. "I moved here a week or two before September ended. I think three."

 "Three months, there's a lot of things you can do in that time period," Luhan says quietly, his seat belt constricting him to his place, but absentmindedly, they interlock hands and Luhan is holding it tightly. Sehun doesn't mind, only responds with the same kind of love. "My issues got better."

 "I won't pry." He knows he wants to.

 Luhan looks over at Sehun curiously, arched brows at the 21 year old whose face softens and bears no emotional distress or negativity. "Aren't you curious? Why I hear things and why I see a doctor?" It sounds sort of pained.

 It takes 30 seconds or 2 minutes for Sehun to reply. "I am," Sehun says, frowning a little bit so that a bit of inner lip flesh peeks out. "But there's a reason to all that. Besides, I have a lot of things that I haven't told you yet," he continues, sounding a bit guilty until Luhan rests his head on his arm. "I'll tell you one day."

 "I'll tell you one day."

  _I'll tell you when you'll love me for who I am now._

 Sehun only knows a few grocery markets, him and Tao usually found in the convenience store down the street from the Hongik campus. Luhan doesn't know where the good ones are, too busy or too incompetent to cook a meal before dialing Jongdae's restaurant number. "Why are you up for cooking all of a sudden?" Luhan asks when they pull into the local Chinese-Korean supermarket. 

 "I want to enjoy certain things with you," Sehun replies. "Like cooking, and cuddling and kissing. Those kind of things, I like. I really like them." Luhan's chest constricts with warmth and under fire. 

 "So cute of you," he murmurs in turn, unbuckling and hurrying out so the cold can be a stark contrast to the pool of heat. "Chinese-Korean, huh? We'll be eating both kind of cuisines?"

 Sehun nods, extending both arms to tighten the earmuffs on Luhan's ears. "I can see your ears getting red, hyung. If you get sick—,"

 "I know," he huffs. " _You won't kiss me._  That's a lose-lose situation for you, anyways." Luhan hurries towards the supermarket, grabbing the shopping cart, the old wheels getting stuck as he pushes it through the door. "If we get back in time...maybe we can try lunch?" Luhan asks sheepishly, Sehun catching up with him and taking the handle from him. 

 "I'd like that."

 The supermarket is crowded on Saturday morning, the elderly in hands with the toddlers who races back and forth in the aisles, dodging sidewalks with giggles and chubby feet. Luhan's shuffling his feet next to Sehun, who's whistling in a rhythm-less beat. 

 "I would have you know, that I'm going to buy a lot of sweet things," Sehun says, waving his wallet that has a Superman icon badge sewn onto it. 

 Luhan scoffs, dismissing his hand. "Don't be like that, put your wallet away. I'll buy groceries."

 "No."

 "Yes," Luhan purposely bumps shoulders with Sehun, who grunts in return. "You should keep your paychecks for college and things you like."

 "I am keeping it for things I like," Sehun corrects him. "And college...it's all paid for. My knotty brother did a lot things to drive me away successfully."

 Luhan's walking slows down, only for a few seconds. "Did it work?"

 Sehun shoots him a lopsided grin. and Luhan swears he'll die in this relationship. "Well, I'm in Seoul and not in Daegu." Sehun stops at the stand of neat fruits, a few bruised but nonetheless bright and fresh. "I'm already living with you, and I'm thankful. So let me handle things like this from mine, okay?" Sehun's rosy lips are dangerously close to Luhan's ear, and his hands are itching to pull the younger one down and kiss him against bruised apples and sour lemons. 

 Luhan nods hesitantly, blinking a bit more than he should. "You like fruits? We'll buy some, apples?"

 "The green ones," Sehun points to them. "The green ones are the best." Luhan nods, ripping off a plastic bag off the dispenser, fumbling with the flimsy material, opening it. He reaches over in tipey toes at the biggest and spring-like apples he can grab, fumbling with the ones that are too big for his hands. Luhan reaches out for another one, when he hears Sehun coughing and swallowing. 

 Luhan looks over, eyes arched. "What? Are you sick?"

 Sehun shakes his head furiously, a wry smile that looks best swollen and against Luhan's, he had learned. "No it's just..." he leans in closer to Luhan, a lot closer. "You just look so fucking beautiful with small hands and everything. Sometimes I forget, that I can have that with you, that you're just so fucking much to take and I can't get enough of you," he rasps, and there's light in his eyes. 

 "All this over my hands and apples," Luhan says softly, and he closes the gap between him and Sehun, just pressing the most softest of kisses onto his chin. Daring, risky, vulgar. They, they are all those, and it's astonishingly beautiful in the sense of risk. Sehun's eyes widens, and Luhan doesn't flinch.  

 "What if..."

 "I'm trying," Luhan forces out, though his knees are shaking violently enough that he leans against the fruit stand for support. He doesn't take his eyes off Sehun, no, not at all. "I want to show people that we're loving in the right way, I'm trying so hard."

 "Whoever hurt you before," something flashes in the taller one's eyes and his hands are gripping the sides of Luhan's slender arms, where his sleeves bunches up. "They're not going to hurt you now." He doesn't say anymore because Luhan knows. 

 Disgusting kisses that took away both their virtues in a bedroom on the third floor, a father that worked the graveyard shifts as a remarkable cardiologist at a hospital Luhan doesn't remember. Hands big enough to engulf the small sides of his torso, thighs, neck. His life taken away and replaced with the hopeless man that couldn't even be cured in the therapeutic modern clinics of doctors. 

 "I know,"  _he doesn't know that,_  but Sehun's words makes him surge with all kinds of hope and love. "Let's go back to shopping...so we can make it back in time for lunch." He leans against Sehun's chest, shutting his eyes so he won't see the world that's watching him love and touch a man. 

  _It's okay._    
   
Luhan peels himself off Sehun, coughing slightly. "We need to buy banana milk," he says hoarsely, tightening Sehun's hoodie, and letting his knuckles and wrists run across his chest when he does. Sehun swallows, before nodding.

 They slip into the meat aisle, Sehun prodding around at the beef tendons and chicken. "Jongin and I go for chicken every other day after dance practice," he says, grabbing one of the packs. "Taemin and Yixing-hyung sometimes go too, but they're not too big on chicken."

 "Do you like chicken?" Luhan asks, picking up another pack and checking it. His aunt had taught him how to perfectly season chicken before pulling it apart for their dishes. "We can make it for lunch."

 "I ate because Jongin liked it," Sehun says, grinning. "I've gotten used to fried, greasy chicken." Luhan makes a face, swatting Sehun with the back of his hand lightly, murmuring about how unhealthy it is to devour chicken every week. "Well you eat takeouts, rarely eat at that," Sehun says, frowning. "Let's eat healthily, hyung? We'll eat everything we like and be healthy."

 "Yeah, yeah, I'll be healthy." And he means it. 

 They throw a lot of things into the cart, bickering over which flavor of milk was best—Sehun thinks strawberry but Luhan's a fanatic for the banana flavor—and ending up getting both. A pack or five of dried seaweed chucked into the cart, along with Sehun's favorites of sweet honeydew candy and chocolate. "We should keep a separate pantry of sweets for you in the kitchen," Luhan says lightly, watching as Sehun tosses another pack of gummies into the cart.

 "Sugar fuels my soul," Sehun retorts gleefully. "You'll love me for my sweetness."

  _You'll love me._

 Luhan laughs weakly, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Let's get bok choy and cabbage? Healthy." He stays into step with Sehun, humming to whatever music was being played in the store, arms that get too close to each other and legs brushing against almost sinfully. 

"Is there anything else you want?" Luhan peers over, checking the contents in their cart, an assortment of candy, meat, milk and greens. "Maybe we can get some more kimchi, I'm not sure if we have much left at home."

Sehun grins, draping his arms around Luhan fondly, nuzzling the side of his jaw against Luhan's hair that flops with his bangs and are messy. "We should, radish or..." Sehun stiffens.

"What?" Luhan frowns and turns around when Sehun drops his arm, limp and against his sides without a purpose.

"Hyung," Joonmyun greets him, offering a delicate smile and waving with the free hand that isn't carrying the basket. “Sehun-ah.”

All warmth detaches itself from Luhan, and he's left with the loss of words.

"Joonmyun-ah," Luhan says, and there's a halt in his voice. the shopping cart handle in his hands feels cold. Sehun's standing a few steps too far. "Hi, it's nice to see you." Maybe. It's a lie because no matter how much he loves his friends, Sehun— _Sehun and him,_ it's a bigger story with a lot less details.

"Likewise," Joonmyun nods, setting his shopping basket down next to his feet. "Hi Sehun-ah, are you two shopping together?"

Luhan nods. "Yeah," unfortunately, his eyes flicker a bit too much and he catches sight of a blank face Sehun. "Hey, Sehunnnie," he says quietly, and Sehun's eyes melts, but his blankness doesn't. "Could you get the kimchi? Either is fine."

Sehun parts his lips to say something, but he doesn't after a look and an urge from Luhan. "I'll be right back then," Sehun says, a bit louder and hurrying off in a bunched up hoodie and blond hair.

"You aren't one for sweets," Joonmyun says, and Luhan doesn't know if he's talking about the candies or something else, someone else.

"Sehun likes them."

In Joonmyun's basket, there are bottles of energy drinks and salty crackers, and a packet of caramel candies and custard buns. Joonmyun looks down, and chuckles. "These aren't for me...they're for," _Hyunjae_. Luhan knows how much Hyunjae likes to much on salty crackers for hours on ends.

 "She likes the crackers with NY Jack Cheese," Luhan offers softly.

 Joonmyun's eyes widens, and his offensively hideous sweater hides his wrists and most of his hands. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't have to.

 "Is she sick?" Luhan asks, looking around at the people who are shopping for their own needs. And he thought, that maybe, everything would go by fast around them, like in movies where the characters are just in their own pitiful world. But now,  _now_ , he has finally caught up, and everything isn't so fast-paced anymore. 

 "You don't have to worry about that anymore," Joonmyun replies, and there's a slight edge to his mild tone. 

 There's a faint smile on one of their lips. "I guess you're there for her now." 

 Most of all, there's relief in both of them. 

 "She told me," Joonmyun says stiffly, "that you...broke up with her."

 "Did she tell you why?" 

 Luhan remembers during lunch period when Joonmyun sat down with him and Yixing, eyes glinting with curiosity, messy hair that would have offended someone like Luhan who now works for a fashion magazine. But he was so sweet and mellow at all the right times, a pat on the back when Yixing and Luhan were trying their best to read the lunch menu in Korean, and laughing when the two gives up and start swearing in Chinese. 

 Joonmyun, he is not sweet and mellow right now, and Luhan is glad—because it's  _not_  the right time. 

 He doesn't say anything, and Luhan knows it's a yes. 

 Luhan lets out a shuddering breath, letting his shoulders slump and all attempt of smiling out of his grasps. "I hurt her, and I hurt myself in the process of trying to forget." The fifth time is easier. The first, to himself, the second, Jongdae, the third, to Hyunjae, the fourth, to Sehun. "I don't know what I was trying to forget. My childhood or my sexuality." He's just talking to himself now, and Joonmyun is listening. 

 Joonmyun's eyes softens, and there's that boy Luhan remembers at lunch who forced all of them to eat their veggies. "I'm gay," Luhan says, and this time, there's no hitching of the breath or crying. "And Sehun, I keep him by my side. And he...he keeps me by his."

 "Why didn't you tell us?" Joonmyun's one step closer to Luhan, brows furrowed and confused on what he should do. "We're your friends, and...we wouldn't have care on on your preferences."

 Luhan laughs, and it's kind of awful. "They all say that, but it doesn't ever make it easier." Luhan looks down at his shoes, his sneakers and its laces coming untied. "It hurts."

 The boy at the lunch table grew up, along with all of his friends. Joonmyun, basket set on the floor, opens his arms and encloses it around Luhan, pulling him tightly and patting his back weakly at sometimes. "I'm sorry hyung..."

 "I always knew you liked her," Luhan whispers, letting himself get caged by Joonmyun's arms. "I'm sorry."

 Joonmyun lets go, and his eyes are glittering. 

 "Hyung...?" Sehun approaches the two of them sheepishly, a jar of kimchi in his hands, hesitant and limbs with nowhere to go. Luhan looks up immediately, a broad smile fills him and he takes a few steps closer to him, arms outreached to pull the jar away and replace his empty hands with his own fingers. "Hyung," he starts, but he smiles. 

 "You two look happy," Joonmyun says. "I like seeing you guys happy." There's a protective hold on Luhan's hand, but Sehun smiles genuinely, pulling Luhan in closer so Sehun rests his chin on Luhan's head, Luhan's eyes fluttering shut for a new seconds.

 "Thank you," Sehun says, "Joonmyun-hyung." 

   


➳➳➳

"I think we've been in the grocery store for too long," Sehun says, knocking another box of cereal into the cart, the sugary one for him and the oat grains for Luhan. "Like we're in an apocalypse."

 "Oh hush," Luhan mutters, staring at their contents. "We won't have to go grocery shopping for a week or two, then." 

 "So what were you and Joonmyun-hyung talking about?" Sehun asks, leaning in to press his lips against Luhan's temple again. 

 "Hyunjae's sick," Luhan says mildly. "And he knows that we're together." 

 Sehun doesn't say much, but his eyes are so bright and his lips perked in a satisfied grin. "It's getting easier, isn't it?"

 "It is." 

 There were only a few weird looks from passersby, the elderly giving them more than a second glance, but, that's okay.

 There were only a few weird looks from passersby, the elderly giving them more than a second glance, but, that's okay, Luhan thinks.

 "Mom, there's two—"

 "Look at mommy, Sojin, look at mommy and not them."

 Luhan doesn't hear those things with Sehun's hands tight on the smaller one's ears, kissing his hairline and pretending that he doesn't hear it, either.

 They both place the cart at the checkout line, hastily putting the eggs, milk, cereal, and more onto the checkout. "Are you sure you don't want me to pay?" Luhan asks.

  "I'm paying, most definitely." Sehun pulls out his superman wallet again, patting Luhan's shoulders warmly. "Don't worry, hyung."

 They leave the market, humming and laughing against cold air and shuffling their feet through light snow. "When are you going to dance practice?" Luhan asks, unlocking Sehun's trunk. 

 "At 2," he says, a little strained as he lifts up four bags and sets them in the back. 

 "I want to come," Luhan says. "I'll bring my laptop if I need to work, but I want to see you dance, again." 

 "Thank you, hyung." All the groceries were loaded in the trunk, Sehun and Luhan hurrying to their sides of the car, because they only have an hour and a half to cook and eat. 

 Back in the apartment, Luhan stops at the lobby door. "We need to take the elevator." 

 Sehun frowns. "Yes... _oh_."

 "I'll be fine," Luhan says dismissively, heaving up three bags while Sehun has the others. "I'll just be dizzy."

 "I can take the groceries upstairs, hyung." Sehun says, staring at him intently. "Take the stairs, I don't want you on any heights if you're scared."

 Luhan chuckles, shaking his head. "I still take elevators, I just get really dizzy, so I don't, usually." He hurries ahead of Sehun before the latter could protest. Luhan does take the elevators, stairs, and everything with height like a normal person. But there's the surge of something, the lack of air and conscious when he steps into it, followed by a string of muttering that cannot be deciphered in either language. 

 "Luhan..."

 "A few seconds," Luhan forces out. 

 "Why are you scared of heights?" Sehun asks, dropping the groceries on the floor of the elevator and wrapping his arms around Luhan, pulling him close. Luhan swears he can hear his heartbeat wildly for all things Sehun. 

 "My room in Beijing was on the top floor," he says lightly, shutting his eyes even though they haven't pressed the button. "Bad nights. I wanted to die, a lot."

 Luhan recalls the times in August nights where the stars should've been there. Instead, there was a man in his bed, sprawled and naked to the thighs that choked him and told him that ' _he was so fucking pretty'._ Staying up late was the norm, shaking with his shirt torn and toss somewhere in his childhood bedroom, a 12 year old who aged to maybe 18 every night, who couldn't sleep because he was afraid his _loving_ cousin would touch him again.

 Balconies consisted of a kid contemplating whether or not he should jump and smash his head against concrete, or endure another hour, another day, another night of incestuous and disgusting love from someone who should've stayed as his cousin and his protective brother, not, the cause of his nightmares. 

 "Will you ever tell me?" Sehun unknots Luhan's scarf, pressing his nose against the crook of his neck. "You smell like mint, hyung." His hands travel up from Luhan's waist to rest dangerously at his underarms.

 "You smell like pines," Luhan laughs weakly, but his knees aren't shaking anymore, and he's not sweating. "And I will, I will one day." Sehun presses the floor number, and Luhan just stays encased between Sehun's arms, because it's a lot safer. "Are you afraid of anything?"

 "I'm afraid of lightning," Sehun says, voice muffled by Luhan's skin and it tickles. It feels so nice, that Luhan wants to feel it against his ear, cheek, lips. 

 "I'll protect you from lightning."

 When Sehun laughs, it floors the entire base of Luhan's neck with a weird vibration that makes him squirm with delight, which makes him laugh even harder. "I know you will, hyung."

 Somewhere in between the shaky fingers that presses the pass code to their apartment, and dropping all their groceries onto the carpet flooring, Sehun ends up shoving Luhan up against the door after it closes, gentle in all the right aspects, in terms of cradling his head and hips so it doesn't get hurt.  

 Peppered kisses from Luhan, fumbling fingers that struggled with Luhan's coat. "Not..." Sehun murmurs against his cheek, "too far, hyung, I won't...push you, just,"

 "Intimate release," Luhan finishes for him, pulling up a fistful of his sweatshirt before letting go to hold his hands against the hot skin on Sehun's neck. "Did I mention you look fucking hot in blond?" Sehun's hands are an iron grip on Luhan's waist, slipping under enough just to expose the alabaster skin that wraps just fittingly around sharp hip bones that protrudes out. 

 Touching, kissing, and whispering against transparent skins were all negative things to Luhan, especially after high school when he fell out of love. Now, it's on a highway to indecisive moments and blond hair that belonged to a leaned boy whose 4 years makes no difference in act. 

 "You're usually so mild, Sehunnie," Luhan forces out between sheepish moans and plush lips. "What a fucking lie," he says as Sehun's long legs encases his, dipping down to lather his Luhan's skin with kisses and whispers of  _you're beautiful_  and incoherent swearing when Luhan presses his hand under his sweatshirt, awfully close to the faint of strip of hair on his torso. 

 "We should," he says roughly in between, "unpack the meat and milk."

 "We could," Luhan tugs at a strand of blond hair, surprisingly silky and shiny despite being dyed. "But I really wanted to kiss you since the coffee shop." A laugh erupts between them, the touching falters and Sehun's hands are resting at Luhan's thighs, the two of them slumping down so that Luhan's sitting on Sehun's legs, his own wrapped around the younger one's torso. 

 "We might be able to make a half-assed lunch before dance practice," Sehun says, forehead glued to Luhan's as they take their time to breathe. "Curry will do, right?" Luhan nods, but in the process he knocks head with Sehun, snorting and chuckling as he presses faint fingers against Sehun's flushed, flower-like cheeks. 

 It's oddly fitting, Luhan thinks, one week from Christmas and here they are. In bunched up sweaters that's thematic to back hugs and teasing as they pass each other the groceries to put away. "Stop staring at me like that," Luhan mutters, covering his face with a pack of dried up seaweed. "We won't have time to eat and stuff before your dance practice." 

 Sehun beams, stuffing the last bit of kimchi into the fridge, stuffing all of the plastic bags into a bundle they'll find use for later. "You're all sorts of things, hyung," Sehun says in a daze, earning a groan from Luhan.

 "I'm going to go change, this sweater is itchy."

 Luhan hurries into their bedroom, already wiggling out of his woolly sweater and mumbling about how terrible Sehun was to a hyung.

 In their room, originally austere in the most terrible way, now has pieces of Sehun tucked in like dog flap ears in books. Plaid-design pillows that Sehun brought from Daegu made a home between the gray and white slashed pillows of Luhan. A juxtaposition of textbooks against a laptop that's turned on to emails and maybe three documents. 

 But most of all, Luhan likes the missing socks under the table, a closet full of snap backs and silly tee-shirt sayings.

 "Is that my shirt?" Sehun asks, and he's laughing when Luhan tugs on the hem of a bright blue shirt with something in English across the chest area. "You would."

 "I did," Luhan chips, hurrying over to the sink to wash his hands. "Your shirts are comfy."

 "Are they?"

 "Uh huh," he says, wiping his hands on a paper towel, scoffing at the curry packets in Sehun's hands. "So much for being healthy," he says, watching Sehun toss the two packets into the microwave.

 "I'm making it a bit healthier," Sehun offers. "I'll layer lots of seaweed and greens."

 " _Ttch,_ no thanks." 

 Luhan takes care of all the dishes, scooping out a good amount of kimchi for the both of them in a square plate; humming becoming a habit of his as well as it's already Sehun's. "Set out a plate of the dried seaweed, I swear curry tastes amazing with it."

 "Really? Okay, then." 

 Sehun is right—it tastes good with dried seaweed. "Did you eat curry a lot alone?" Luhan asks between mouthfuls. Stunningly attractive. 

 Sehun shrugs. "Yeah," he picks up another seaweed square. "When I was younger, my brother was in law school. I think I was maybe 11 then? I learned how to use a microwave and ate curry every other night."

 "I was 15, then." Luhan says in thought. "I had just gone to Korea, then." 

 "The age gap seems kind of big if you look at it back then, 11 and 15."

 "Adults now, Sehunnie," Luhan hits the side of Sehun's bowl with his chopsticks. "We're mature adults."

 There is laughing. 

   


➳➳➳

"My stomach hurts," Luhan mutters, slinging his laptop bag over his shoulders. "Cheap curry doesn't sit nicely. Will you be able to dance?" Luhan slips small hands through Sehun's arms, and Sehun frowns.

 "You're not wearing gloves." He turns around to grab Luhan's hands in between his hastily, pushing his lips down on the knuckles and Luhan squirms.

 "Stop," he says watching numbly as Sehun dots his fingers with a bit of him, some lingering too long, "you're making me want to kiss you again." Sehun stops kissing his hands, but he doesn't let go. "My hands are warm, Sehunnie, but you can keep holding them."

 "They fit nicely," Sehun says, almost incredulously. "In mine. I...I like it? Yeah, it makes me feel nice."

 "When did you start liking me?" Luhan asks while clicking his seat belt together, pulling off his hat so that his hair sticks up. 

 "Namsan," Sehun says bluntly. "Maybe before. I always liked holding your hand, and I was...happy? Or, just this...raw excitement whenever you came for tea. I found you undeniably attractive when you came to the shop the first time, scowling." He gives Luhan a quick glance, who imitates the scowl unconsciously. "But Namsan was when I really wanted to be more, but I didn't know if you were..."

 Luhan laughs loudly, throwing his head back, followed by Sehun's own chuckles. "Namsan made me feel weird things. I kind of liked those weird things, though."

 "What about me?"

 "You?"

 "When did you start liking me?" Sehun clarifies. " _God_ , we sound like middle schoolers."

 "Hmm," Luhan looks out at the window, frosted but enough so that he can see street signs and cars parked all along the side as they drive by slowly. "I don't know. I don't have a specific event, but..." Luhan had liked the way Sehun drew certain things on his tea cups for him especially, and how carefree Sehun was against the backdrop of a busy world. A slight dab of curiosity when Luhan found himself in between Sehun's arms and against his chest. Panic, heartbreak, and confusion that bound him to by chains when he kissed Sehun for the first time drunk and sad, quietly hoping it wouldn't be their last one. 

 "I think in intervals, distorted ones." Luhan says slowly, a short and sweeter version of his fast-pace gears in thoughts. "Like when you slept over and we slept in my bed. I wanted to card my hands through your hair then. And I did everything to see you. In intervals, it caused me to do stupid things," Luhan finishes, looking over at Sehun for any emotion.

 His eyes are brighter than any lantern on Lunar New Years'. 

 "Sappy, we've become one of those sappy couples." Sehun makes a turn, and Luhan can tell they're nearing the dance studio. "Shit, that was not on my bucket list."

 "We deserve it, after everything." 

 Luhan, with his laptop and phone on in his hands, catches sight of a red car. "Oh—that's Jongdae's car." He points to the one with puny bumpers. Sehun makes a noise in response, slinging a duffel bag over his forearm and light sneakers meant for fast-pace dancing sinks into soft snow. 

 "I might take a while at practice," Sehun frowns. "I think Yixing's done being easy on us now."

 "I don't mind waiting." 

 Luhan almost laughs at how hasty Sehun is, fumbling with an over packed bag that visually and continuously embarked on the patterns of obnoxiously colorful sneakers and sweatpants, pretending they're with a purpose in color when there's only torn laces and mismatching socks underneath. He nearly drops his phone, furiously texting someone—maybe Jaehyun—and only barely grasping his fingers around the white earphones cords.

 "Why are you such a mess?" Luhan asks, not expecting an answer. Instead, Sehun's busy wiping snow off his phone, Luhan gripping the strap of the duffel bag and yanking it off unexpectedly, surprisingly heavy loaded with clothes and whatever stuff dancers needed. "Where should I bring this?"

 Sehun's not dropping his phones or tripping over the curbs anymore. Instead, they're both inside the studio, abstract paintings that litter the walls in all sorts of size. "We can go to the third room, that's our practice room." He nods towards the left hall. 

 "For someone so organized," Luhan starts, readjusting the bag on his shoulders, the material digging into his shoulder. "You're done for on the go." Sehun makes a face but doesn't argue, only tightening the cap on his head and bunching up his scarf into a resemblance of a wadded ball, pulling the bag open so that he can stuff it in with the other mess. 

 Jongdae  _is_  there, ornamented by laughter and slapping his knees when the former got too much. Sehun lets out a low whistle, grinning and tossing the keys onto the tables. "Hi Yixing-hyung and Jongdae-hyung," he nods towards the other two dancers, half-stretching and half on their phones. "And you two."

 "You two?" Jongin wrinkles his nose, pulling his hair out of his face with a hair clip that most likely belongs to his sisters. "Nice to see you too, Sehunnie." Jongdae's tank hangs low, exposing sun-kissed skin and a bruise Luhan remembered he got from falling against the arm rest. "And Lulu-hyung!"

 Taemin jumps to his feet, his bright hair pulled back with a headband as he gives an airy wave. "Hyung! And _Sehohoho_!" he does a spin and a snap, which Luhan assumes is a dance routine. "Get it? Because Christmas is next week and Santa goes ho ho ho—"

 "Yes, Taemin," Sehun interrupts. "I heard this, and read this when you sent it to me with a meme attached." Taemin snickers, pulling his arm down so that Sehun's down to his height by a few inches, to yank the hat out of his hair and toss it across the dance room. 

 "Luhan," Jongdae heaves himself off the couch, bouncing on his feet in knee-ripped jeans and a sweater with too many stripes. He pulls out a chair for Luhan next to him and Yixing, whose hoodie hides his sleepy face. "You're here, too?"

 "Uh huh," he replies, settling into the seat and pulling down his sweater sleeves. "And you?"

 Jongdae shrugs, his eyes twinkling. "I dropped off some food, making sure they weren't completely living off cola and tteokbokki." Luhan nods, eyes darting back and forth on the three dancers teasing and stretching—most definitely Sehun—and back at his laptop to enter in his pass code. "You're even working in the mornings? The weekends?" Jongdae doesn't sound surprise, and he shouldn't, because Jongdae has come over plenty of time on late mornings and early nights, all with movies and food. 

 "I just want to clear up my Sunday," Luhan shrugs. "I'm a lot busier these days. And it's not morning."

 Yes, Luhan does consider telling Sehun to stop hogging the TV remote for Cake Boss as thing that keeps him busy. 

 "Oh—" Yixing rips the hoodie away from his face, unfortunately pulling some of his hair and wincing when he does. "Hey, that's Sehun's shirt. He bought that last time with Jongin." Luhan's jacket is slump again the chair now, exposing the big tee-shirt that stands out. "And it's...not gray. Or white. Or black. Or some muted tone you call your religion—it's blue!"

 Sehun looks over, raising his brows, not sure what to do.

 Instead, Luhan smiles softly, looking down at his laptop at nothing. Jongdae nudges at the back of Yixing's foot, kicking it until Yixing pulled away. "Go teach your dance class Yixing," Jongdae says, his voice perkier and there's a smile somewhere in it. "They're waiting."

 There's a beat of electric music, thematic rhythms and chords that strings itself through the dance room. "You and Sehun are really together now," Jongdae says, when Yixing's out of earshot and running over to stop Taemin from trying to do a back flip into the mirror. "I'm jealous."

 "Of what?" 

 Jongdae has always been the one that Luhan longed to be—who had loving siblings and parents, good grades and a personality that soars around people's hearts and fingertips. The way he could look at others, at Luhan without a burden or some sort of angst that resided in people who couldn't be any better. Jealousy, jealousy was always something Luhan kept by his side.

 "You and him," Jongdae says, nodding towards Sehun, who's standing beside Jongin, listening to Yixing intently. "You must have gone through a lot to get together, right? But yet, no matter what, you're together and even I can  _feel_  that sort of loving in the air, kind of makes me squirm because the way he looked at you when you came in, oh god, I felt like I was watching a soap opera with my mom again."

 Luhan wrinkles his nose. "Is...is there a way we look at each other?"

 Jongdae shrugs. "It's the look you gave Minseok, only this one seems so much more younger and wild."

 Luhan's fingers stop typing. 

 "You..."

 "No, I didn't," Jongdae says quietly, his eyes full of sympathy and sadness. He leans in closer to Luhan, pulling a hand from his pocket to sling an arm around him, patting him slowly and rhythmically. "But I pieced it together. I knew Minseok never had a thing for girls, but I thought it was just a high school thing...maybe he was into older woman, I don't know. And I never knew then about you...fuck, I'm sorry. After you came out to me. And...God, I wanted to punch a fucking wall when I realized, because, _how could I have not known?_ "

 "We didn't..." Luhan squeezes his eyes shut, sinking into Jongdae's side. It hurts, he thinks, so fucking bad. "We didn't want anyone to know."

 Lie.

 Minseok... _Minseok_ had grabbed his bony hands and promised to come out together after graduation, it's just Luhan's fault they never had to.

 "He's coming back soon," Jongdae says, his voice cracking and only then, did Luhan realize how pained Jongdae looked.

 "Don't look like that."

 "My friends were in fucking pain and—and I didn't know." Jongdae sits up, his face less pale and his moles prominent against his temple and jawline. “What am I suppose to look like?”

 None of the dancers look back, the music too loud. 

 The only thing about Jongdae's heart of gold and perkiness that it had a limit until he breaks, blaming himself. Those times, Luhan realizes that they're just as equal on human terms. 

 "Yeah, he's coming back." Luhan echoes, the nape of his neck burning as the laptop in his lap feels a bit too heavy. Maybe that's just him. "I'm scared."

  _your fault_

_  yOUR FAULT YOU FUCKING— _

_  I know. _

 "I'll be here for you, Sehun, too."

 Luhan ends up only finishing up two emails before sliding his laptop back into the bag, curling up against the sofa in a big blue shirt, eyeing the three dancers and their teachers, but he mostly only looks at Sehun. The curve of his back, arched in perfect sync to the music, and his hair that seems to be dancers of their own as he slips between Jongin and Taemin for his dance part. 

 Sehun is not the best dancer, not with Jongin by him, who had taken several dance classes since he could walk. But Sehun dances dangerously, wildly and beautifully. How he folds his long limbs into perfection that is only flawed by the sleeves that keeps drooping pass his elbows. 

 "I bought a lot of food for them," Jongdae says. "My workers are at the restaurant, and it's not busy. So I'm going to stay for a bit." He motions towards the paper bags and take out cartons. "Are you hungry, hyung?"

 Luhan shakes his head absentmindedly. "I ate earlier. With Sehun."

 "Ah, at a cafe or something?

 "No, we cooked."

 "God, you two are really the perfect, cutest couple."

 No they're not. They're most definitely not the perfect couple because to others, being a man and loving a man is a sin that should be eradicated. One of the men is a child who can't sleep without the other and sought out doctors unwillingly, to calm his nerves. The other is boy who got kicked out of a family, a home and a society, because there's no girls for him. 

 They're the face of a tragedy that's being sewn up by a rusty needle and laughter.

 "Sehunnie and I went grocery shopping today," Luhan says breezily. "We ran into Joonmyun. He knows, or well, knew."

 "Who else...knows?"

 "Sehun's friends. You, Hyunjae, Joonmyun, Seulgi; my coworker." Luhan rakes his hair with his old hands, careful not to get any strands stuck in his watch. "Ryeowook knows, and so does my aunt but they don't count. I was forced to tell them."

 "You weren't...forced to tell us?"

 "Not at all," Luhan looks over at Jongdae, smiling and nudging his knee with his own. "Jongdae, you've been my best friend and longest friend. I would never be forced to tell you anything. I wanted; I want to tell you."

 "I'll always listen."  Jongdae gives him a flat look as if insulted. "I always will. And you should give your friends more credit," he continues slowly. "We aren't like the people who doubted you guys. We love you, hyung."

 "I should give them more credit," Luhan says, though it's mostly to himself. "That's what Seulgi said, too." Luhan looks back at Sehun again, curling his fingers in at how graceful he appears. 

 Yixing is working them harder, the sleepy and dazed version of him wiped away and he's a clean slate; in lengthy arms and frowning when one of them missed a toe point or a back arch. Luhan's reminded of the sinner who he got a glimpse of on stage, filled with a lot more tragedy than their dance had insisted on. 

 It's an hour in with Yixing instructing something about body isolation and releves before Luhan slumps into sleep. 

   


➳➳➳

 Dreams are so rare. They're of the sort that leaves Luhan in sweat and shakes. He doesn't get them usually, but when he does he prays to some sort of higher being that the dreams would take him away too. 

  _"Do you like being touched there?"_

 This was the part where 12 year old Luhan forces out a yes between gritted teeth and mashed lips, torn lip skin from the elder's teeth and 'kissing'—devouring, devouring is the right word. This, this is the part where 25 year old year screams and screams but there's nothing he can do because he's a silhouette in his own fucking dreams. 

  _"How about here?"_

 Sometimes, those dreams are accompanied by a suspicious, slender hand from Sun Wei, down in Pooh-bear pajamas pants that end up torn on the floor next to the bed. His bedroom is on the top floor and it's hell trying to drown him. No one is home in dreams. No one was ever home back in reality, anyways.

  _"Tell me you love me."_

 Incestuous, vile, searing touches from his Sun Wei. 'I love you,' no I fucking hate you and I want to fucking kill you or myself. I hate you, I hate you, I fucking hate you. 'I love you'. Lie, lies, the number of times reality Luhan stares in a slump at dream Luhan retch out everything into the toilet in the morning from last night, Sun Wei getting ready for his work as an intern for a big-shot company, bidding Luhan's father a goodbye and that he'll 'babysit' Luhan again tonight. 

  _"Are you still gay, Lu?"_ A thrust. A muffled sob and hooded eyes from a rosy boy who is a sickfuck of a man.  _"I'm doing this for you Lu, I love you, Lu."_

 A 12 year old going on 13, dangling his legs on the balcony and wondering if his frail body can slip between the bars and become nothing but a suicide scene. 

 Dream Luhan dies a lot. Reality Luhan wakes up and relieves his childhood in broken remnants throughout his days. 

 Those are—dreams, to Luhan. 

 Were.

 His dreams are different, now. There's no Beijing bedrooms or Sun Wei. There's Luhan with his name in Sehun's neck instead of the green binder in Ryeowook's office. Spring time and dream Luhan promises to take Sehun outside of the city for a day or two. 

 An age older and a year happier.

 Something stirs Luhan's hair, something rough and sharp digging into his shoulder, pulling him out of whatever utopia that was. Eyelids peeling back, an eyelash stuck in his eye and irritating. He's staring into the material of a sweatshirt, which Luhan weakly clutches. "Sehun...?"

 He's being cradled in his arms, jumping a little bit with Sehun's quick but careful steps. "It's like 6 right now," he murmurs into his hair, halting in his steps to readjust Luhan. "Do you know how light you are?"

 "Your duffel bag is digging into my skin," Luhan rasps, coughing into his balled up fists before burying his face back into the crevice between Sehun's arms and chest. "It kind of hurts." Sehun drops the duffel bag onto the floor, and Luhan catches sight of his laptop bag slung on Sehun's other shoulder. "You can let go if you want." He doesn't. 

 "You fell asleep during our practice," Sehun says, looking down at Luhan fondly. He's crouching on the floor now, knees bent so that Luhan's laying across his lap, Sehun unknotting the elder's hair gently. "I wanted to take you home right away, but our practice just ended."

 "I had a good sleep," he murmurs. "Did anyone give you weird looks when you carried me?"

 Sehun shakes his head. "No, they still think I'm staying with Ten for the winter," his words stumble when Luhan presses his lips against his chest. "One day, we'll tell them."

 "Soon, we're going to tell them soon," Luhan corrects him. "I don't want you as my secret, they'll probably catch on soon, either way." Sehun's chest shakes when he laughs, and it feel so nice against Luhan's sides. Luhan slips away from Sehun's arms, his heart going out for his boyfriend who had to carry a sleepy Luhan, a heavy bag and a laptop without protest. "Thank you for not waking me up, though you should have," he gives the younger a peck on the side of his mouth. "I had a nice dream."

 "About me?" Sehun teases, helping Luhan fix his sleeves that got jumbled up. 

 "Yeah," Luhan says without anything following it; no sarcasm, no retort. "About you."

 Sehun's eyes reddens almost comically, and Luhan finds that almost undeniably cute. Sehun stands up awkwardly, his cap—the one Luhan bought for him—worn loosely and showing tuffs of gold if inspected closely. Helping Luhan help, they hurry to the car before either one of them catches a cold. 

 "We're going to a bar or something," Luhan says when Sehun's turning on the engine. "A bar or a club. Baekhyun's choice of place this week." Not true exactly, because Baekhyun's first choice of place had been Lotte World until Kyungsoo smacked him on the side of his head, saying they're too old to be screaming on machines. 

 "Are you going to drink?" 

 Luhan yawns, the last bit of sleep yanked away from him with a self-induced gasp and a neck roll to the right and back. "Irish Martini, Black Russian tastes good after a pile of stress. Madras," he looks over at Sehun, full-on grin and a new found some of daring in someone who only drank straight vodka because ordering mixed drinks was a hassle for someone who didn't care for the voices outside of his head. 

 "Are you an angry drunk? Or happy?" Sehun asks, pulling out of the parking lot with a few quick glances at him. There's something about Sehun that certifies him to be a bullshitter of sweet words that was a stark against sharp complexions; Luhan having the liberty to see plastic-like skin soften against plush pillows with dark circles that labeled each university student as well, a student. Sehun's one of the few people including Yixing that could literally curse someone out but they'd be left in a daze, in awe of a beauty. 

 "I'm a sad drunk," Luhan replies, rubbing his eyes as street lights glow vibrantly in blurs across the streets. It's not completely dark, because it's the fucking city and there's only morning and neon in the days. "At least, I think so. I do weird things as a drunk. I might kiss you, you can stop me if you want."

 Luhan  _does_  do weird things as a drunk. Maybe he recalls kissing a woman well in his 30's when he was 19, just to get a taste of something right when it was still so fucking wrong. He was 19, he sort of remembers, when things went to shit again. Kissing older women in luxurious nightclubs and pretending they could be someone he'd love became the norm until he was 21. 

 "And you? What of drunk are you?"

 "The kind of drunk that would kiss you back."

   


➳➳➳

 It's no surprise Sehun and Jongin are regulars at Mansion in Hongdae, it being in the student center and it's honestly tempting to just lounge around there with the more frugal drinks after homework, or maybe not doing homework at all if it's Jongin. 

 "Oh Jesus it's fucking loud," Luhan mutters, Yixing chuckling beside him and Baekhyun swinging his arm around his hyung. "Couldn't you have chosen like, a wine bar or something?"

 Baekhyun snorts. "We're in our 20's, not 40's," he deadpans, tightening his cap. "Plus, I chose like, the toned down club here. It's not too electric and stuff, right?"  Luhan doesn't argue, slipping into one of the lounges in the far back away from the scene of hair flips and low v-necks in the crowd. Baekhyun's sporting eyeliner and BB cream, shouting something that suspiciously sounds like plans to suck a pretty college girl's face off in the bathroom. 

 "Morals, Baekie, morals," Kyungsoo says flatly, his face twisting in disgust when Baekhyun starts describing in explicit detail of how this foreign girl's lipstick somehow smeared itself across Baekhyun's thigh, calling for Chanyeol to yelp and cover his ears and Luhan twitching his eye. 

 Sehun just laughs, though, cheeks flushed from standing outside in the cold too much, secretly huddling closer to Luhan so that their fingertips brush against each other and one of their hands finding a way to grip for dear life on the other. 

 Baekhyun knows a lot of people. In equivalent of Luhan knowing a lot of American, Chinese, and German models and journalists, that kind that shoots him an email for helping them edit their stuff. Baekhyun knows the best bars, clubs, parties, and people who can make a mojito without it tasting flat. 

 "I'm going to the bar," Luhan stands up, adjusting the sweater he had changed into when they were home for a short hour. "I'm more comfortable ordering drinks directly." Yixing nods, flipping through the menu with Jongin looking over his shoulder, Kris whining about how everything is the same at every club or bar. 

 "I'm going as well," Sehun murmurs, sliding out of his chair and excusing himself when his knee accidentally bumps Jongdae's and Joonmyun's. He would've bumped with Tao, but the panda boy slides his feet, giving him a high-five.

 "I kind of want a drink from the bar as well—," Chanyeol starts, before Jongdae clamps his hand on his shoulder and yanks him down, making a face at him.

 "You barely know how to order a drink, sit down." Jongdae says dryly, sending a wink towards Sehun and Luhan, Joonmyun suppressing a laugh with a balled up fist. 

 Under the low lights, no one sees them. 

 Luhan heaves himself up on the stool, winding a curl of his own hair through his fingers, Sehun next to him, elbows brushing. Clad in a colorless shirt and tight jeans that just seems to make Luhan groan, he looks over at the array of drinks, amused. "You really going to drink?"

 "I might," Luhan replies, slinking his arm around Sehun's because everyone's too busy kissing or fucking to notice. "I definitely am."

 "Should I be responsible for you hyung?" Sehun inquires, eyes raised and eyes that mimics the bright streetlights outside in indie Hongdae. "Should I not drink and be responsible?"

 "We can take a taxi home," Luhan says airily, and he doesn't know where Sehun is looking at. Maybe his eyes at one point, his nose or lips. There's this weird fuzzy feeling on the roof of his mouth when he looks at Sehun. With past lovers, looking at them were rare because he'd end up pressing his hot mouth against theirs, no time to admire a canvas of human work, the almost perfect slope of the nose or the how there's a dip on the corner of the eye. 

 Minseok had always mentioned it's because he's impatient. No, Luhan disagrees. It's because time never waited for him and he's chasing after some sort of love, too quickly to notice any sort of details. Love was rushed.

 But with Sehun, there's a lot of time. 

 "What are you thinking about for drinks?" Sehun asks, not noticing how downcast Luhan's eyes are at his lips. "Straight vodka or something light?"

 Luhan yawns, his eye feeling sort of heavy and his lips sewn together. "Whatever you're having, Sehunnie."

 Sehun ends up ordering both of them a Midori Sour, Luhan raising his brows at the choice. "You know your drinks, Sehun-ah. Did you drink a lot in Daegu?"

 Shaking his head, he scoots in a bit closer to Luhan, and God, Luhan can just lean in and kick all the distance out right fucking now. "My friends did. I just tagged along."

 "You were a good kid, huh?"

 "Far from it." 

 Their drinks come cold and green with the lime, glass clinking against each other in a cheer. "I wasn't one," Luhan says, his voice slightly husky from the drink. "I mean, I tried. We all did, didn't we? But...I just went bad."

 "Wasn't your fault."

 Midori Sour is Kris' favorite, downing the sweet and sourness of it like it was water. "And how would you know that?" Being bad, no, Luhan didn't go out to cheap motels or fight his teachers. Being bad was an alone-thing. 

 Sehun doesn't respond, only leans in slightly so his head is nestled in the crook of Luhan's neck. He can't help wondering if Midori Sour would taste even sweeter on Sehun's lips. "Remember when I first met you at some other club? Ho Bar. Well, after I met you."

 "You said there wasn't anything to lionize about me." Luhan tilts his head so he's resting on Sehun, too, their stools pressed so closely so that one of their hands found a home on the other's thigh. "And called me a snob."

 "No," the alcohol's already getting to him. "I said you looked like a snob."

 They order a few more, White Russian or just flat vodka sometimes. Rosy cheeks and laughter bubbling out of their lips, Jongdae comes over to check on them a few times, only to smile knowingly and walk away with two tall glasses of a martini and shaking his head.  

 An attempt at responsibility, suggestions of lessening the drinks, almost incredulously when so. It's not up to either one of them when there's a lot of glasses and ice sloshing around in watered down remains of alcohol. Murmuring ' _we'll take a taxi'_  over and over when another swing and suppressed giggle arises, stress from work relieved from their muscles.

 "I'm going to have a fucking headache tomorrow," Sehun says, his voice so light that Luhan can imagine it seeping through his fingers again and again.  

 Pounding headaches and pounding fists against the sleek purple walls in the upstairs bathroom, one of Sehun's leg propped in between Luhan's legs as the elder presses hot kisses up and down the base of Sehun's throat. There's something electrifying about this—coffee shop knee brushes wrapped around gloved fingers to Sehun wrapping locks of charcoal hair around his fingers, over and over until there's a gentle fistful of Luhan's hair. 

 "No one," Luhan whispers against lips that has had a few sips of Appletini too many. "Goes up to this bathroom, the second floor because," hands too close under a nice church boy sweater, "the soap smells too weird." In other words, _'kiss me until my lips are fucking blue'._

 "Why are we always kissing in the bathroom?" Sehun says, almost laughing against sharp collarbones, alabaster skin stretching over protruding bones that builds up a man worth of kissing and so much more. And maybe it's the alcohol in Luhan's system, maybe it's not the case at all when Sehun's hooded eyes go even darker when a bit of Luhan's collar under his sweater peeks out even more, messy and everything that it shouldn't be.

 A jumbled up string of swears when Luhan's hipbone gets too close to the fancy table of air fresheners, fake flowers so the club doesn't have to replace it every week. Luhan groans in between wet kisses, clutching his side momentarily before returning to Sehun's waist. "Shit, did that hurt?" Sehun pulls away abruptly, a low whine from Luhan unexpectedly when he does so. Sloppily grabbing onto Sehun's shoulders when the younger lifts up the shirt, brushing his hands across the place where the edge of the table had rammed itself into. "I'm sorry, hyung."

 "It doesn't hurt," Luhan says, his voice hoarse. Concern etches between Sehun's brows as he tries to catch his breath, pulling the shirt up further to expose soft, pale flesh, and a bloom of a red bruise at Luhan's hip. "Really, I'm like an apple. I just bruise easily." Luhan grabs Sehun's hand and pulls away from his bruise, offering a sweet smile. Sehun laughs at that, shame-faced still until Luhan brushes his warm fingers across the sharp jawline, earning a more distinct smile. 

 "I'm sorry," Sehun says again, but he's leaning in closer again. "I didn't mean to press against you that hard."

 "Shut up, Sehunnie," Luhan dips his head so he's breathing in pine again. "It doesn't hurt." Luhan doesn't like not kissing Sehun. Mainly because kissing Sehun was thrilling and all things exhilarating. A small, partial reason being that not kissing leaves him reminded of a dull ache forming from his erection.

A bit of Luhan's bangs falls in front of his eyes, a few blurred stands in front of Sehun, hot breaths with lingering taste of all kinds of mixers and flats. Sehun doesn't say much, except for more swearing as he props Luhan onto the table, knocking off some of the fake flowers. Fuck it, anyways. 

 Luhan is used to kissing and hugging Sehun at a shorter distance, even when they're curled up in bed, Luhan having to strain his neck to plant decent kisses here and there. But now, with his feet dangling on the dark wooden table, his legs ending up pressed against Sehun's thighs again when the latter yanks on the elder's sweater sleeve and wraps the arm around his neck, grazing teeth against tinted lips. 

 "Are you actually drunk Sehunnie?" Luhan gasps when Sehun's arms tighten around his torso, squeezing nearly all the life out of him but undeniably giving off a safe-aura. "Do you get... _drunk,_ easily?" 

 Sehun probably does reply, but Luhan's too lost in blond hair and tracing intricate details of collar bones. "You're all sorts of things," that's what Luhan does hear though, huskily and low. "At first you were so sure on calling yourself straight, now we're..."

 "I had a lot of reasons," Luhan croaks, press his damp lips onto Sehun's forehead, lingering with no sign of parting. "I'm making up for all the times I wanted to kiss you since Namsan." Sehun grins, pulling his forehead away so he'll turn his neck just enough to tease him with a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Do you think they're suspicious, of us going to the bar and now having hot make out sessions in the bathroom?"

 "I'd like to do more," Sehun murmurs against his skin. "But you're more than that." Luhan's chest pools with warmth again, chuckling as he pulls his hair back, sweeping his bangs out of his eyes and exposing dewy skin on the forehead and eyes brighter than the electric neon outside of the club. "Most definitely not in a bathroom."

 Luhan traps his boyfriend in between his legs, but he's not pulling him up for a sloppy kiss this time. Instead, he snakes his arms around Sehun, pulling him in tightly, as if Sehun would fade away any second if Luhan wasn't holding onto him 'til the end. "Thank you," he whispers, lifting up a hand to rub at the nape of Sehun's neck, the younger one's breath hot on Sehun's ear as he stay like that. "For finding value in me."

 They do a lot of things. Sehun pulling away after a few minutes, tongue swiping along a swollen bottom lip almost greedily, hushed and hopeless whispers along the lines that wraps them together. "You know," Sehun starts, almost dangerously. "For someone with a beautiful and soft features, you're hiding secret work-out bodies." Luhan coughs into his sleeve, choking a bit on his own spit when Sehun teases him by pressing a flat palm on Luhan's stomach. "You have a lot of surprises for me, hyung. I feel loved."

  _Loved._

 Yes, Luhan thinks. They're both, loved. 

   


➳➳➳

 "I think I'm still kind of drunk," Luhan says sleepily, lowering his face into the sink, splashing his face with handfuls of cold water to cool off the red cheeks and take attention away from swollen red lips. "That, or I just really want to kiss you again." Their clothes, tucked back into their jeans and straightening out collars, pretending that they weren't grabbed by the fistful to hold down desperate kisses and uttering moans when it felt right. It always felt right. 

 "We've been in here for like," Sehun checks his watch, "40 minutes. And no one came into this bathroom."

 "I told you." Luhan flings the water off his hands by shaking his wrists, Sehun tugging at a paper towel dispenser to pat Luhan's hands dry. "The soap is weird." 

 Of course they're drunk, only Sehun who was just a bit tipsy enough to feel lightheaded from the music and lights could hold Luhan up, tightening around his waist to hold onto the smaller one. "You're going to fall Luhan. Do you want to go home?"

 "Let's...go to our friends, first. I want to socialize with them." 

 "Oh—Sehunnie and Lu are back," Kris points out, a lazy smile as he dips a piece of fry into a lump of ketchup. "Were the bar drinks really good? You were there for years."

 "Really, really good," Luhan chirps, a little slurred and excessively happy. This earns a cocked brow from Kyungsoo, who's obviously out of it, too but nonetheless a bit more sober. "They all taste fizzy and good!"

 "Is Sehun drunk, too?" Chanyeol asks, making room for the two. 

 Sehun smiles sheepishly, his arms with nowhere to go as Luhan slumps against his side. "Just a bit, hyung." Lethargic hand movements, propping his cheek sloppily on his palms. 

 Luhan's not the only sleepy one, Baekhyun too, drunk and rubbing at his eyes, smudging a bit of eyeliner, a streak across his cheek. Joonmyun and Kris are animatedly talking about something, stuff that involves vibrant eyes that has a bit of coloring under neon lights, and waving their arms around as they do so. Kyungsoo's on his phone too, Jongin leaning against the man and watching him. 

 "Baekhyun, you got...a bit of...?" Chanyeol starts, almost laughing. 

 "A bit of what?" Slurred.

 "Ketchup. You got a bit of ketchup on your lips."

 Baekhyun waves his arms around, pausing to ruffle up his bangs and grin at big-ear boy. "It's my new lipstick, sparkling coral," he drawls, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Why, wanna try it?"

 "Oh, get off me."

“Ketchup is gross,” Tao mutters, staring at Baekhyun in dismay.

 Luhan tries his best not to burden Sehun with resting his heavy head on the boy's shoulder, opting for nodding his head throughout the conversation with Chanyeol and Jongdae. Well, something resembling a conversation. "What did you drink?" Chanyeol asks, his voice all bubbly and blurred at the edges. 

 "Everything Sehun drank," Luhan says, gleaming. "But I can't hold my liquor like he can," Luhan tries to give him a pointed look, but looking at Sehun just makes him want to lean in and kiss him until both their lips ache with a sore. 

 "Should I expect you to throw up tomorrow?" Jongdae asks, his voice low enough just for Luhan's ear, supposedly, but Sehun perks up, narrowing his eyes and turning towards Jongdae in his dark red jacket, questioning in his eyes. Luhan knows what he means. 

 Holding alcohol was never in his list of skills. 

 "Hyung throws up?" Sehun asks sharply. Luhan flinches, curling in closer to Sehun because the other side of the table doesn't see in the dark.

 "Not like that..." Luhan mutters, a sense of urgency in his words.  _Don't misunderstand me._  "My system is kind of bad...when it comes to alcohol and stuff." Sehun's tension lessens, but there's the hard lines around his pink lips and slanted brows. Sehun looks up at Jongdae for either input or further comfort, the latter just nodding sadly. 

 "Sometimes when Lu is in a bad mood he drinks a lot and regrets it a lot."

 "But I'm not in a bad mood," Luhan sits up, his lower lip sticking out when he tries to maintain a decent focus on his best friend. "I'm happy. I'm really happy right now." Jongdae nods, holding up his drink to clink at nothing before downing the glass, clearing his throat before laughing again.

 "You bring out the best in Lu-hyung," Jongdae says, as if it's only for Sehun's ears and as if Luhan doesn't hear. He most likely doesn't, too busy toying with the buttons on Sehun's sleeves and curling his fingers between his joyfully. 

 "He brings out everything in me," Sehun replies warmly, tightening his grasp around Luhan. "No more drinking, okay, hyung?" 

 "But I like..."

 "Stick to wine," Sehun murmurs, leaning down to press his lips against the clear skin on Luhan's forehead. Jongdae snorts, saying how he feels like he's watching a cheesy soap opera again and it makes him feel lonely. "You're not going to throw up tomorrow, right?"

 Luhan shrugs, pulling away and propping himself against the seat. 

 It's another hour ticking by when Yixing's tugging Jongin by the hoodie. "We're going to meet the kids at the junior branch studio tomorrow," he says, raising a brow. "Do you want your biggest fans to see you as a messy drunkard who drank too much during the Nutcracker?"

 "That was two years ago!" Jongin protests, writhing away from Yixing's arm. "I'll be sober enough by then, I'm a good role model, honest!"

 "Are you..." a bit of Luhan's accent seeps through subtly. "Going to that, too? With the studio?" Sehun nods, holding Luhan upright against his side as he tightens the scarf around him. If Luhan wasn't too drunk and tired, he would've seen the way Kyungsoo glances at them curiously, lips parted in the need to say something but instead, only attaching them to a tall glass of coke. 

 "Hyung," Kyungsoo walks up to them, a patterned scarf woven between  a strap of his leather bag. "Do you two want a ride home? Sehunnie looks," he pauses, offering a weak smile. "Kind of too tipsy to drive."

 Sehun shakes his head, his eyes not losing any of that youth when he does so. He opens his mouth to say something, but Luhan beats him to the punch. "Sehun's going to stay with me, we'll take, " hiccup, "a taxi, thanks Kyungie!" 

 "I'm going to haul them a taxi," Joonmyun says abruptly, before Luhan can say anything more with those pretty bruised lips. "Kyungsoo, we're still up for pool with Chanyeol tomorrow, right?" 

 "Ah...yeah." Kyungsoo turns back to Sehun and Luhan, giving them both a short pat on the arm or shoulder. "Get home safely?"

 "We will," Sehun replies quietly. 

 Hailing a taxi in Hongdae is by all means, not easy. Sometimes it involves shouting, or standing dangerously close on the curb and waving arms around like a lunatic. Usually, it's stepping a few footsteps onto the road, twirling around on their heels until a taxi halts. 

 Joonmyun opens the door for Sehun and Luhan, Sehun ushering Luhan in gently, gripping on his shoulders tightly so that he can make sure the elder doesn't bump his head against the door when climbing in. "Have fun dealing with hyung tomorrow, Sehunnie," Joonmyun says cheekily. "He's a handful in the mornings after Saturday nights."

 "I'll take care of him well," Sehun vows, before ducking his head into the taxi as well.

 Maybe the driver wants to say something, eyes darting too often to the mirror to catch sight of Luhan snoring slightly against Sehun's chest, hands pressed against his waist as the taller one breaks the knots in ashy black hair with his fingers mindlessly. The driver doesn't say anything, solely a number of seconds short of a sigh before turning his aged eyes back to the road.

 It's when both of them are quiet, when their thoughts are at its peak. Wondering what they did in a past life to deserve this sort of struggle, because no one else in love should have to endure so much poison and spite from the world that frowns on their relationship in some sort of way or another. Sometimes, the thoughts trail back to what they did every morning, Sehun fixing one of Luhan's tie on a small neck and crease-less dress shirt. Coffee mugs with kiss stains on it from a bit too much loving of mouth-to-mouth contact once toothpaste has settled in. 

 Often, it leads to what brought them these concepts and memories. Like mindless heart drums on late nights or too early mornings when Luhan was shouting and crying in a coffee shop too weak for these sort of modern pains. Or necking a girl with no emotion or taste; bland and aching for something that's terrible. 

 All is quiet again. 

 Stepping out of the taxi involves cooing into Luhan's ear, persuading him to unhinge himself off Sehun's waist no matter how much he likes his arms around his stomach.

 It's late, no one in the lobby except say for the napping janitor because there's no one to nag him. "We're almost there, Lu," Sehun grunts when Luhan slumps against Sehun almost teasingly. "Hyung, are you...?"

 "You're so fucking warm," Luhan breathes against him, sweet and sour lips. "Promise me you'll hug me all night?"

 "I don't have to promise," Sehun says, holding Luhan up right. "I always do because I always want to." At that, Luhan giggles, a weird sight for a flushed man who's a fancy editor at some fancy magazine. Sehun's pulling Luhan towards the staircase, careful to check both their steps between headaches and groans from the two of them. "We can take...the elevator."

 "Again?" Sehun asks sleepily. "It's okay hyung, we can take the stairs if you—"

 "We can take the elevator," Luhan repeats himself, tugging on Sehun's sleeves. "I'm too tired to remember or feel anything, anyways." 

 Stumbling, drunk, and oh, so happy, he shuffles his feet towards the elevator, even if his heart kind of hurts at the idea. "We're too tired to take the stairs," he calls out tiredly. "Let's go to sleep, Sehun-ah."

 In the elevator, Sehun doesn't hesitate to grab Luhan and press him against himself, pressing fragile kisses up and down the side of Luhan's cheek and Luhan traces the pattern on Sehun's jacket. Luhan's heart drops a few beats when the elevator starts moving, but he's too busy to notice, or to care. 

 "You're so brave, hyung," Sehun says in daze. "You're overcoming so many things."

 "Uh huh," Luhan peels his layers off, hurling the hat and scarf at the hanger and dropping his jacket on the floor next to Sehun's pile of manwhas and 3DS. He'll pick up tomorrow, because every Sunday he cleans up the place, or tries to. Sehun takes a longer time to unbutton his jacket and untie his shoes, not bothering with the slippers because they're going to flop right into bed anyway.

 "Hyung," Sehun groggily flips on the lights to the bedroom, seeing Luhan already all curled up on his bed, only one sock off and the bare foot curling in almost cutely. "Already asleep?"

 Luhan doesn't reply, only tossing to the side and patting the space next to him. 

 Sehun ends up lingering a bit at the door, still playing with his own shirt collar. "Come on, hug me and sleep," Luhan whines, and he's only left in his undershirt because sleeping in a sweater would ruin it. "I'm tired." So Sehun does, fitting in snugly next to him, legs overlapping and each other breaths stirring locks of blond and black.

 "You should stop doing these things to me," Sehun breathes out, muffled. "Looking at me like that."

 "Why?" Sleep isn't too far away from Luhan right now.

 "I might fall in love with you too quickly," Sehun wraps his arms around Luhan, pulling him in as if to keep him from running away. "And I don't want...to...scare you away."

 "Me too," Luhan's almost gone now. "Me too."

 Luhan's scared of falling, and he's most definitely scared of heights.

 But maybe, falling for someone is an exception.

   


➳➳➳

Jongin and Taemin went home on Wednesday, Taemin to Dongdong-du, and well, technically, Jongin went home on Tuesday, because Suncheon was a bit more of a lengthy distance to get there. Yixing, Kris, and Tao are all still in Seoul or something—Luhan thinks Yixing mentioned something about having a mini-vacation in Busan, actually, he doesn't remembers. 

 "What if I embarrass myself? Oh God, what if I embarrass you?" Sehun throws himself back on the couch, nearly crushing the boxes of gingerbread men Jongdae's sister had baked for them. 

 "Don't fucking crush my cookies," Luhan snatches the tin box from under Sehun, protectively in his clutch. "Do you know how much Jongdae and I had to beg noona to make us a cake when we were younger? It's a godsend when she bakes stuff now." 

 "Well, Merry Christmas to you too, Lu," Sehun drawls, before draping himself across Luhan's lap and breaking a piece of gingerbread for himself, specifically the side with the most frosting.

 Somewhere along the lines of Lu, and hyung, they both agreed to drop the honorifics when they're in private, because Luhan likes the sound of his name against cracked lips—only Sehun's—and they're both, well, equals. Luhan takes the other piece of the cookie, popping the bit into his mouth and moaning pornographically to irritate Sehun.

 "The more I get to know you and love you," Sehun scrunches up his nose. "You get kind of weirder." 

 "Uh huh," Luhan pulls a curl of white blond out of Sehun's eyes. "It's Christmas Eve, I'm pretty happy right now."

 "We're suppose to be happy on Christmas," Sehun retorts, but his smile is so warm that it didn't matter.

 "I was kind of sad last year," Luhan says, something in his voice saying that he doesn't want to give any further information. "A lot of snow and traffic. But now I have a very tall, very sweet college student as my boyfriend."

 Saying boyfriend got a lot easier; natural.

 "You make it sound illegal."

 "It's _not._  "

 Their apartment isn't so gray and white anymore; Christmas lights Sehun got at a local store, strung up against the walls because they didn't have a tree. They had a fern plant but Sehun says it doesn't count. For the holiday spirits, Sehun also managed to organize all of Luhan's pillows into red and white designs, and found a pin-up plastic snowman from Luhan's storage room. Their apartment kind of reminds Luhan of a gray splotch of paint with sprinkles dotting it.

 "Back to tonight, what if things don't go right?"

 Luhan shakes his head. "It's morning right now Sehun. Du matin, 早晨. Calm down Sehunnie, okay? Let's enjoy Christmas."

 "But..."

 "Oh my God, Sehun, I don't really get good Christmases and this is our first one. We can fuss about what's going to happen 1 hour before it, you know, actually happens," Luhan says flatly. First one, Luhan thinks to himself, he hopes it won't be their last one. He sets the box of cookies on the table next to the mugs, before laying back so Sehun can rest comfortably on Luhan's lap. 

 Sehun's in brand new baby blue sweaters—Luhan secretly bought three of the color—because he can't stop looking away from how it complements his height and hair. Luhan had to remind him that he wasn't buying him, not at all. "You can get your Christmas gift on Christmas," he had said, and Luhan had laughed and kissed him hard. 

 "This sweater is unbelievably warm," Sehun mutters, fixing his sleeves as Luhan cards his fingers through his hair. "I don't have to hug you to sleep if I wear this then."

 "Shut up, I'll return it." 

 There's no fireplace, because in modern day Seoul, there's heaters for that. So no, they can't say they're that traditional couple that stares at fire for three hours. Maybe the balcony would be nice for view changes, except the snow isn't white as pigeon shit and it's all dirtied and clumped up in ice. Sehun did suggest the idea of matching sweaters but Luhan walked away before Sehun could pick anything out.

 It's not traditional, but, lover and lover in hand with the warmest sweaters and terribly decorated walls is as best as it gets for them. 

 "I feel so lazy, just staring at the TV for Christmas," Sehun says, but he's not complaining. He's pressing himself closer into Luhan, his head nudging Luhan's groin and the latter blushes, curling his fingers in at the side at a Poporo pillow. 

 "Stare at me, then," Luhan replies just as lazily, cupping the sides of Sehun's face and leaning down to boop noses with him. Laughter erupts from Sehun, who pulls a hand out of his pocket to press his palm down on Luhan's nape, pushing his face in closer so it's their lips this time that's brushing against each other.   
   
"I told you to stop doing that last week," Sehun murmurs into the kiss, teeth tugging at chapped lips greedily. "I told you if you kept doing that, I'd..."

 "Fall in love with me quicker," Luhan's voice is strained and whispered, tongue swiping at Sehun's bottom lip. "I heard you the first time." His touches are careful against Sehun's blemish-free skin, running his hands up and down the side of his face and lingering at his ears. Pulling away, he tucks Sehun's hair away again, tracing his brow bone and eyelids when they fluttered shut. 

 "You..."  
   
 Luhan shifts his legs, forcing Sehun up in a daze with tousled hair and pink splattered across freckled cheeks. "Eat some more cookies. Don't just take all the frosted ones."

 "Lu," Sehun extends a hand to pat Luhan's cheek. "You're so cute." Luhan snorts, kicking off the blanket and heading to the kitchen with his phone. "Are you getting something to eat? Can you toss me a bag of chips then?"

 Luhan nods, pulling his phone out to check his notifications again. It's all Baekhyun, Yixing, Joonmyun, and Jongdae, and videos from the rest of friends about their families. Ten even spammed some erotic Christmas themed photos, captioned  _"u n sehun"_  . 

 But the most notable one is an email from one he unfortunately recognizes as his father's. 

 Shaky breaths and knocking his hip against the counter. 

 But, he's not scared.

 Instead of looking at it and have it put a damper on his precious holidays with Sehun, he tosses his phone onto the marble counter and ignores it, snatching the bag of Sehun's favorite chips and carrying it out back to the living room. "I'm going to take more photos of us, Lu." He motions for the hyung to come over with a smile. "So we can look back at them next Christmas."

  _Next Christmas._  

  _There,_ there will be a next. 

 "Okay," Luhan says quietly, smiling up softly at Sehun, wrapping his limbs around him and cheeks mushed against each other in a cute gesture. 

 Every click and snapping sound takes Luhan back to Yeouido park. 

 After scrolling them them and looking pleased with himself, he pulls Luhan in so he can rest under his arm, kicking their feet up and dressing it up with blankets. "Are you going to call your parents? And wish them a happy Christmas?" Luhan asks carefully, pressing his hand on Sehun's knee.

 "I left voice mails," he looks down sheepishly. "I don't know if they...they hear those but, I left them. Don't worry." Faint Christmas carols on replay could be heard from outside in the streets, jolly people and freezing in the snow singing their heart out. "Do you have family? To leave voice mails for?"

 Luhan thinks about it. Not much thought, because 10 years has taught him that sometimes, thinking isn't fucking worth the pain and burdens. "No, I don't." Today, Sehun oddly smells like pines and peppermints. It's...almost nice? Yeah, it's nice. "Just my aunt and ahjumma."

 "That's still family."

 "I have family in Korea," Luhan shuts his eyes, smiling just a little bit and sinking a bit more into Sehun's touch. "That's family to me."

 A few minutes passes with Sehun just mindlessly rubbing his hand up and down Luhan's arm before Luhan jumps up, startling Sehun. "I want more cookies," Luhan says bluntly.

 "I thought you didn't like sweets," Sehun says, blinking. 

 "I like cookies, not chocolate," Luhan clarifies, grinning widely as he crawls onto Sehun's lap, the younger one's eyes widening by a margin when he does so. Sehun looks over at the tin, still stacked and crumbs of cookies. 

 "Your...cookies, they're over there."

 "Eat them with me," Luhan says, stretching past Sehun to latch his hand on the edge of the tin can. "They taste better when you eat them together."

 "Says who?"

 "I always felt lonely eating them alone each year." Luhan breaks off a piece, mouthing 'ah' at Sehun. He does so, and Luhan beams, feeding him the cookie and careful not to get crumbs everywhere. His fingers brush against soft lips, and there's a shiver from Sehun.

 "It tastes good," Sehun says lowly after swallowing, and leans forward, knocking over the box  
of cookies in Luhan's lap, deepening everything, shaking hands wrapped around a thin waist. 

   


➳➳➳

 

 

   
"Lu, Lu, oh my God, _Lu,_  " Sehun's pale and pacing around their bedroom. "Okay. one hour before the Christmas party. I am _allowed_   to panic now. I am panicking. This is me, currently panicking."

 Sehun's decked in a suit that suited all the needs to favor all the right parts and places, a tie in a Windsor knot, tied impeccably. Despite Sehun's protests, he ends up covering up his freckles that Luhan loves. And all Luhan could do was sit there on the bed and stare at how stunning and elegant Sehun looked; how powerful. 

 "I'm the one with your love bites on my neck," Luhan deadpans, putting his comb away. "I don't think my boss will appreciate his editor coming in with roses on his neck at a business party." Sehun, shame-faced, offers Luhan an apologetic smile. 

 "I can cover those up," Sehun says breezily, advancing towards Luhan to peel the collar away from his neck, exposing a few pretty love bites that Sehun is quite proud of. 

 "From experience?" Luhan asks dryly.

 "They're almost the same as bruises," Sehun murmurs, pulling out his concealer, the one he uses for his freckles. "I'm good at covering those."

 Luhan doesn't ask any further. 

 Covered and set, Sehun fixes Luhan's tie again, and Luhan can still see the nervous glint in his eyes. "Don't," he whispers, because Sehun's so close he doesn't have to yell. "We're okay. Everything is going to be fine, okay? You're my date to the Christmas Party, my Oh Sehun and I'm your Luhan." Sehun swallows, shuttering eyes shut with the lashes kissing sharp cheekbones.

 "I don't want people discriminating you at work."

 "They will," Luhan admits, apologetically. Maybe incredulously. "But there will also be people that...support me. There's a girl that does, she kind of helped me get my act together." Seulgi. She did more than get Luhan's act together, she knocked sense into him that Ryeowook couldn't in the 10 years he had. He's not going to get fired...right? This is 2015...almost 2016 and it should all be better, right?

 "What do you do at these kind of parties?" Sehun asks, opting for a better shift in the conversation as he leans down to press foreheads together. That's Sehun's favorite action, Luhan had picked over the times in morning and nights when he grabs Luhan by the arm to just hold him tightly and press foreheads together.

 "Drink 100 year old wine," Luhan replies easily, "take pictures. Pretend the party is fun to please Changmin. Oh, and dinner. Expensive as fuck dinner."

 "Sounds like your kind of thing."

 Luhan pulls away to smooth out his jacket again. "It's not. I'd prefer to spend Christmas Eve at home with you." Sehun blushes a deep red at the tip of his ears, earning a delight laugh from Luhan. "My thing? Cuddling in bed all day. And getting crumbs everywhere."

 "Tomorrow, then."

 "We are most definitely doing that tomorrow."

 They're in the car, Luhan's driving. He doesn't take into account the fact his hands are shaking, from either the cold or something else. He's too concentrated on visualized puffs of air every time he takes a breath. It's not until when Luhan struggles with putting the right key and drops it on the floor. "Lu, _Luhan,_ " Sehun starts, his voice dipped with worry. "Hyung!" he reaches out to snatch the keys away from him, replacing his now empty hands with warmer hands. "I knew it, you're scared."

 Luhan tries to laugh, it sounds bad. "I'm not scared, Sehunnie." He tries to take the keys back, but Sehun moves it away further. "Just cold."

 "You're...terrified of what's going to happen, right?" Understanding pools between Sehun's dark eyes, his lips shaped to form the comforting words that sends Luhan to bliss every time. "Hyung..."

 "Petrified," Luhan forces out, smiling ruefully. "I haven't even come out to Kyungsoo and Chanyeol, I just don't know if they'll react right if I do right now."

 "Then you don't have to, Lu."

 "I want...I want to. If I do, I'll be able to fucking breathe in the streets like any normal person without feeling like shit," Luhan snaps, but then regrets it. "I just...want to be with you, everywhere."

 Sehun's face strikes with some sort of energy and a surge of emotions that's too much for both of them. Quickly, Luhan leans to peck the blonde on the lips. "I'm driving then," Sehun says, clearing his throat with a faint smile on his mouth.

 VERILLI always stands out in the streets, an offset modernity to it with sleek, tinted windows that curve when the building bends. There's a few wreaths strung with a velvet-looking ribbon, resting snugly between the windows with enlarged photos of their previous and successful magazine covers. "It's even prettier at night," Sehun says with a low whistle. Luhan shrugs, because it's not much. And maybe it's like that to him because he walks into that building five days out of the week, only to wring himself dry with bubble tea cups and editing until his eyes started seeing dots. 

 There's a lot of cars already, parked in the lot reserved for the employees. 

 "You go big, hyung." Sehun says, laughter tinting his voice. "Some people like me come out to a few people at a time, you're...you're on a separate level."

 Luhan chuckles nervously, looking out his window. "It's going to hard," he swallows, clearing his throat when he does so. "But it's mostly going to be hard because you look so kissable in a suit, shit." Sehun makes a noise of surprise, before dispersing in short laughter in intervals. 

 "Can't keep your hands off me?"

 "Shut up, Sehun," Luhan mutters, hooking his wrist around Sehun's neck and pulling him, his lips, words, and everything capitulating to Luhan and his dark hair that just screams to be messed up over and over with fistfuls of hair and pulling. Except they're in front of a very fancy building that requires fancy stature. 

 Debauching with soft presses against the jawlines, because having a swollen lip would raise flags that neither of them have the time for. This doesn't stop Sehun from masticating on Luhan's lower lip, just as he does himself with his own teeth when he's bored. Surly lips that best be for private affairs ends up meeting anyways in the front seat of the car.

 "Okay, hyung," Sehun pulls Luhan off, his eyes so bright that there's too many ideas swarming in a hue of dark chocolate. "Let's go, okay? I don't want them seeing you with anymore marks on your neck, because I didn't bring anything to conceal those."

 Last year, Hyunjae stood as his date, bedazzling and swooning the hearts of his co-workers with arched curls and the prettiest coral lip tint, staining lips that never really lie. 

 This year, Sehun's walking nervously with his arm hooked with Luhan, flashing smiles of encouragement. A kind of love that isn't fleeting; making them all gush with a sense of longing. 

 "How do you want to do this?" 

 "What do you mean?"

 "There's two ways to come out. One, casual and natural. Two—we can have a hot make out session in front of your boss, pretty casual as well."

 "Sehun?"

 "Yeah?"

 "Shut up."

 VERILLI looks a lot different inside when it's not bustling with people to be interviewed and the interviewee. There's a massive tree, topped with a gleaming star and ornamented with a set of matching purple decorations—lavender, royal purple, the likes. Peeling off his jacket and Sehun with his, they hand it off to be stocked away in the coat room.

 "Changmin is the man with the really sculpted features and handling a glass of Chivas Royal, white tie?" Luhan whispers close enough to Sehun, or, as close as he can get without being on his tipey toes. "Lovely man that likes to keep us for overtime on deadline weeks," Luhan finishes off sarcastically, but keeping a straight face.

 Sehun, his face perplexed and overwhelmed by the fancy men in suits and dresses that fitted their curves. "Where's Kyungsoo-hyung and Chanyeol-hyung?"

 Luhan tenses, but keeps by Sehun side, their shoulders brushing but neither one of them move away. "I'm not sure. We'll...run into them soon, soon enough." His throat feels dry, resulting in tumbling words that has no place in the world right now. "Let's get something to drink, wine?"

 "Wine," Sehun agrees, his face less panicked and more so sneaking for warmth from Luhan's hands when their fingers brush, just subtle enough to create a spark but not enough to create attention. 

 At the bar that was rented for tonight's purpose, they're standing up straight with their back without any arch. Stiffness brings formality. Formality brings out nothing. 

 "This is...slightly odd for me," Sehun says to break the silence between them, with a clink of the pinot noir glasses that Luhan has himself at home, about seven or ten. "My brother, you know that he's a lawyer? Well, he invited me to attend one time to some annual party at work, a year before I left." Sehun leans the glass back and forth, to ready the wine. 

 "What for?"

 "Show off to me," Sehun continues, a slight bitterness that's washed over by mildness. "To show me what he had and what he could do. It was sort of like...his final parting from me? Yeah, it was, now that I think about it. Severing ties, even if we were brothers." Luhan takes a sip of his, just a lipful, but it tasted so bland; the look of fleeting disappointment on Sehun's face overwhelmingly sad.

 "Well," Luhan pries the glass away from his lips, clearing his throat to catch Sehun's attention. "You're here...at my work's party, not because I want to show off to you or anything," he takes a step closer, and this time it sparks even more between them and maybe just a bit of attention—because friends don't usually stand only a few inches away from each other, so close and thrillingly daring. "But because I want to  _show you off,_ my boyfriend," he whispers, and any sense of self-regret and doubting self-worth peels itself off Sehun's face, and he's back to being the boy Luhan is falling in love with. 

 "I think this year, I'm really understanding the hoot about Christmas." Sehun says, tongue swiping out to wet his lips and smiling down at Luhan, glass of wine still untouched whereas it stained Luhan's lips crimson. 

 And they do get attention. 

 "Lu-ssi," Sungmin drawls cheerfully, a tall glass of white wine in his hand with the natural offset of straw-yellow. Luhan recognizes him as part of the Marketing department—they don't talk much—with the inconsistency of tapping to the beat of a church boy to one that finds himself in a female co-worker's bed and lace panties in his grip. 

 "Sungmin-sunbae," Luhan greets him, slightly tensed and moving away from Sehun to face him. "Merry Christmas."

 "Not truly Christmas yet," he grins sardonically, taking a swing of wine, much too brusque and no room for elegance in his sips. Sungmin is a man of vodka and rum, not for pinot noirs that could break under his grip. "But yeah, same to you." He tilts his head, exposing an amused glint to his dark eyes. "And this? Who could this be?"

 Sehun pauses, before tilting his head, in a mocked nod rather than a perfect bow. In usual cases, Luhan would've nudged him for forgetting honorifics or purposely disregarding them. But this, it doesn't matter. Sungmin, doesn't matter. "Oh Sehun," he introduces himself, rolling his letters around in a way that has Luhan writhing under nothing. "Merry Christmas Eve."

 "Ah, as to you." Sungmin says again, a bit too quickly and a low irritation forms at the bottom of Luhan's chest. "And who may you be? Are you some lucky lady's date?" Sungmin shoots a low whistle, and in a gulp, his wine glass is empty, whereas the two's glass remains nearly full and steady in their grip. "Gorgeous ladies we have here at VERILLI." His last few words drip with innuendos that has Luhan's blood curling and spitting.

 Sehun shakes his head, his face blank. "VERILLI does have their share of beautiful people," Sehun says coolly, and Luhan swallows. Sungmin doesn't catch it, only takes a terrible smile and gesturing to have his wine glass refilled. 

 "Shouldn't you be with that beautiful person of yours, date or something?" Sungmin asks with strings woven through his words. He's standing a bit too close for comfort to the two, Luhan avoiding eye contact by taking a dip with his own drink, too fast that it would've dribble down his chin had Sehun not looked over at him, worried. 

 "Any need to interrogate him?" Luhan asks, his voice stiff and his brows knitted together along with twitching lips that has the need to snarl. "Sung-ssi."

 Sungmin throws his free hand back defensively, chuckling. "Do you know him well, Lu-ssi? You two stood awfully close, Why," Sungmin asks mockingly, and his face, which is nearly just as babied as Luhan, twists in an ugly manner, something that happens whenever he opens his mouth to defensive mechanism or plain harshness. "Where's your date? I'm  _terribly_  sorry about you and Hyunjae." He doesn't sound sorry. He doesn't have to, anyways.

 "Sung-ssi," Sehun says abruptly, eyes narrowed into slits but yet maintaining such a sweetness that seems unlikely. "It's a merry Christmas, isn't it?"

 "Where's your wife?" Luhan asks, voice flat. "Saeun?"

 Sungmin's face turns even more sour, his smile dropping to one of strain. "Other obligations." 

 "Holidays are up and running, how's your department going?" Luhan continues, tapping his finger against the glass. 

 "Wonderful."

 "Lovely to hear."

 Sungmin stares at Luhan during the spare seconds, knuckles turning white by his side, an awful contrast to his entire black-on-black attire of suits and ties, not to mention the likes of ashy charcoal eyes and hair. "I wouldn't say I'm completely dateless," Sungmin says, bringing back on the topic of his wife reluctantly with a sting. "But that's alright for you Lu-ssi. You'll find someone soon," he says it as if it were words of encouragement. God, it's most definitely not.

 "He did find someone," Sehun says easily, stopping Sungmin in his tracks before he can waltz away to neck a poor woman who just had too many drinks. Luhan's pretty sure his own knees are shaking, so he presses his back against the bar counter, to keep his knees from buckling. I'm okay. 

_ are you? _

_  RUINING YOURSELF. _

_  I love myself. I love him. _

 Luhan, unconsciously, but not at all unintentionally, sets his glass of bitter wine down, and finding a place in Sehun's limp hands, interlocking trembling, clammy fingers. "He's with me for tonight," Luhan bites out. Luhan feels sort of winded, and if Sehun noticed, or he didn't, his hands still tightens around Luhan, pulling him closer to his side protectively. "My plus one."

 There's a lot of people around, talking in delectable postures that are relieved of stress for the Christmas vacation, some are high-pitched and nasally while the others don't talk; a head nod or sometimes a head roll to get rid of a crink. 

 There are so people, a lot of them Luhan talk to occasionally or have lunch with in the canteen downstairs when none of them are feeling it. His vision sort of blurs, but his eyes are so dry.

 Sungmin cocks a brow, his cracked lip twitching into a half smile. It looks like shit. It...it makes Luhan feel like shit. "Don't tell me," Sungmin's words are filtered heavily by an inconsistent laughter, as he tries to hold it in with a balled up fist that Luhan bet has kissed the face of poor high schoolers back then. He seems like the type. No, he is the type. "You got yourself an escort, Lu-ssi?" It sounds almost comical, when Sungmin inquires, face flushing pink from his fits of chortles. That catches a lot of attention.

 "Sung-ssi!" Luhan exclaims roughly, not too loud but enough to have Sungmin's lolling head to stop as he calms himself down. 

 "I heard about those," Sungmin continues, tongue flickering out between white rows of teeth. "Pay them immense amounts to escort you to a party? Oh, Lu-ssi, much respect for your work, but this is withdrawal from Hyunjae, huh? Oh, man, glorious!" Sungmin looks around, eyes widening in recognition as he slings his arm around a co-worker, Yesung, nearly toppling his drink over. He doesn't look amused.

 Luhan, pale and his temple dew with sweat as his throat threatens to close up. Sehun, next to him, his eyes hooded and his lips in a thin light as his knuckles by his side shakes, itching to throw a punch or more. 

 "Yesung-ah!" Sungmin shouts a bit too loudly for this kind of party, but there's no protest because this is technically off the hours for them; Changmin not able to put a word in formally. "You hear that? Oh man, it's gold! Our  _Luhan_  here from the editorial department," he points a finger at Luhan, almost accusingly with eyes brimmed with bright tears caused from excessive giggling. "Got himself a whore escort!"

 Yesung's face contorts in confusion, trying to balance a plate of cheese crackers and his wine glass. "Sungmin, you're so loud," he mutters. He looks back at Luhan and Sehun, but his gaze wavers at Sehun. "Hey...I know you?"

 Sehun's the one that blanches this time, as Luhan tries to take in the whole scene.

 "Sekyung-hyung?" Yesung ducks under to get out of Sungmin's arm, who's still pink in the face as he whispers delightfully into another worker's ear. "You look like him." He gives Sungmin a once-over, scoffing. "You're his little brother, aren't you? Lawyer's kid brother?" Yesung whistles, grinning and showing off vampire-like teeth; his charm, as he calls it. "Man, what a story. Your hyung is  _my_  lawyer."

 "Sehun's not a kid, Ye-ssi." Luhan interrupts briskly, standing in front of Sehun just by a few steps. "I don't get why all of you are picking on Sehun." His voice is so strained and his eyes burn with bitter hatred. "I want it to stop. Now."

 "If your brother saw you right now," Yesung continues, disregarding what Luhan said previously. "Are you really a whore escort?"

 'I'm.  _Not_." Sehun's voice is ice-cold, and Luhan shivers. 

 "Yesung!" Luhan is kicking honorifics with his polished shoes now. He takes a step closer to Yesung, eyes in slits as his lips shapes into a snarl. "Stop it."

 Now everyone has stopped their chattering, only the music in the background kept playing.  

 "Did Luhan really bring an escort to this?"

 "Poor man, probably missing his ex."

 "Why did he bring a man?"

 "To probably piss his ex off."

 "A whore escort! Hah—can't believe it! Poised Luhan, oh man!"

 "Guys, stop, enough, okay?"

 "I wonder where he gets those escorts, that tall boy is a luxury."

 "Why don't you go ask him then?"

 Luhan's breathing gets heavier, and he sees Changmin in the corner of his eyes, face unreadable. 

 This is Beijing again. Young and barely out of elementary school, swinging his bruised and band-aid infected legs on the swing. Kids threatened to cut him further if he told anyone, so he settled for getting bruises and pushes. And Luhan—torn apart at the lunch canteen with none of the lunch ladies looking his way, quivering lower lip as a burly classmate yanks on his locks, accusing of him being a cross-dresser and a princess boy. 

 "Lu?"

 Somewhere in between the seconds and scornful whispering, three figures make their way to front, Luhan instantly recognizing those paper-like eyes, silver hair and doe eyes. 

 "Luhan?" Seulgi whispers, her burgundy eyes burning with worry and conflict. "What's happening?" Luhan doesn't reply, staring at the ground as she looks over him, face deluged with realization. Kyungsoo is behind her, glaring towards Yesung and Sungmin as Chanyeol stops to catch his breath.

 "What's going on?" It's Kyungsoo this time, and he's glaring daggers at Sungmin who's sobering up from his show of laughter.

 "Oh, Kyung," Sungmin looks over at the three. "Your friend here is—,"

 "What about my friend?" Kyungsoo asks flatly, though it's rhetorical. He looks straight at Luhan, and Luhan recognizes those owl eyes that befriended him in their second year of high school. He doesn't miss a beat with Kyungsoo's eyes widening when he sees Sehun. "Sehunnie?"

 "Sungmin, Yesung." Luhan's voice is not at all nicer than Sehun's was. "You can break my respects and tease me," 10 year old Luhan wouldn't have been able to do this. "But if you step on my date,  _my boyfriend,_  do you think your department can work without me?"

 All is silence; the Christmas music sounding eery to all ears. 

 Sehun takes a sharp intake, Luhan backing up a few steps so that his hand desperately finds a way to reach into Sehun's and clutch it tightly; their arms entangled. 

 "He is not a whore escort," Luhan continues shakily. "He is not under his brother—I don't give a  _damn_  if his brother is a top-notch lawyer. I don't care." Luhan stares right between Yesung and Sungmin, who both mimic each others expressions, dilated eyes and parched lips parted in a half-gasp. "Apologize to him."

 Nothing.

 " _Apologize!_ "

“Luhan...it's okay, I'm not hurt—,”

 "Luhan-oppa," Seulgi starts, her face pained as she takes in the whole scene again with a shuddering breath. She's Chanyeol's date for the night, her pomegranate shaded dress that matches dutifully with his tie. “You're great, don't hurt yourself over this." Chanyeol's eyes are nearly as doe as Kyungsoo, jaw slacked and hanging as their arms go limp. Sehun's grip on Luhan tightens, pulling him in closer and murmurs the same thing in Luhan's ear,  _'don't listen to those two', 'it's okay, no need for apologies', 'you're fucking amazing'._  

 Sungmin's features loses its scowl, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth as his eyes darken. "You're..."

 "—Gay," Luhan finishes for him coldly, his knuckles tainted white and he's seeing red blurs in his vision now. "I want an apology. Give us an apology." 

 "All this time?" Yesung pushes, his words slick with a wavering weariness. "No idea..."

 " _What's it to you?_ " It's Sehun this time, his jaw shifting as he tries to push his anger somewhere else. "Luhan-hyung is no different, you're his co-workers for God's sake, stop this." His voice rises loudly, and Luhan shuts his eyes. 

 The whispering doesn't stop. 

  _I'm sorry Sehun._

 Two sturdy hands caress the side of Luhan's face, and Luhan makes a noise, surprised. Sehun cups Luhan's red ears with his palm, tightly that not even sound gets in. Muffled, Luhan tries to speak, to tell Sehun to move his hands away but he doesn't even hear his own voice. So he watches the scene unfold before him. Chanyeol, looking perilous in all the ways needed, advancing towards Sungmin and Yesung, saying something that Luhan can't hear at all. 

 Sungmin and Yesung, perplexed and saying nothing—Luhan doesn't see their lips moving—until Seulgi and Kyungsoo turns towards them, Seulgi with her hair perfectly pulled up in a chignon, points at them with perfectly manicured nails, her paper-drawn on eyes without any color. 

 Sungmin and Yesung ends up disappearing in the crowd, leaving Luhan in hefty breaths and eyes brimmed with tears, but he won't let them fall. 

 "Sehun..." Luhan says. "You can let go now." Luhan reaches up to tug at Sehun's hand, fingers brushing against his knuckles. His voice cracks, he thinks, keeping his eyes shut so he doesn't have to see his friends. 

 Sehun does let go, but only to latch on an iron grip on Luhan, pulling him away from the bar and the scene, keeping him close to his chest and not caring about anything in their way. "Sehun..." Sehun doesn't stop moving, only a little bit quicker and his grasp on Luhan tightening, making the elder writhe under. "You're scaring me." Sehun's eyes are dark, his jaw stiff.

 Sehun halts in his tracks, his other hand in a limp, dangling by his side as his breathing smoothed out from jagged shards. "Why did you do that?"

 "Do what?" Luhan massages his temple. They're in the dark hall way, not bothered with being closed off because everyone is in the west wing, drinking to Christmas cheers until they're drunk. Luhan hears Kyungsoo and Chanyeol shouting for their names, but he doesn't have it in him to respond.

 "You should have stopped." Sehun looks like a business man, Luhan notices again, because it's easier to notice the clothes on his back than the pain on his face. "You should have stopped, Luhan."

 "You..." Luhan's so tired. "They were saying awful things to you...and I, fuck, do you know how much it hurt to hear they saw that kind of shit to you?  _I wanted to kill him!_ " Luhan says, his voice wavering and it sounds like broken glass to both their ears. "It hurt so bad...I couldn't even imagine how it would hurt you..." he brings his hands up to his face, covering them as he bites back a sob.

 His palms stung, and he winces.

 Sehun lets his hands slip from knotting up his hair, to reaching out to Luhan's own hands, prying them away oh so gently, to reveal puffy eyes and a bitten lip. "Don't you even see the things you do to yourself?" Sehun asks desperately, making Luhan look down at red-etched marks of self-inducing pain. 

 Encased in Sehun's arms may be one of the best feelings Luhan has ever encountered. "I told everyone," Luhan whispers. "You're mine. I'm...yours. I did it, Sehunnie. I really fucking did it."

 "I'm sorry, hyung."

 "Stop that," Luhan coughs into his sleeve when they pull away. Sehun's slump against the lavender walls with floral designs, slaughtering the nice and lavish hallway with the likes of them. " _I'm sorry._  I'm sorry for ruining your Christmas Eve with my shitty work life."

 "This isn't my best Christmas," Sehun says, his voice parched and dying for something to drink. Luhan looks up at him, still engulfed in the taller boy's arms. Sehun lowers his neck to press a kiss to Luhan's nose, because it's much easier than trying to reach for his lips. "It's my favorite though."

 Luhan's best Christmas was spent with his aunt when he came to visit from college, dotting on him and calling him of a son. 

 "Thank you," Luhan smiles into Sehun's chest. "I don't think it's good for us to stay here at this party anymore, my tie is going to choke me anytime soon." His chest rumbles against Luhan, peeling away and locking hands instead of lips. "But I..."

 "You...?"

 "I should go say some things to Kyungsoo and Chanyeol," Luhan gulps. "It's right of me to do that."

 It's an understatement to say there is staring. Not at their perplexed expressions but at their intertwined hands.

 "Oh, they weren't kidding."

 "I wouldn't have expected him..."

 "Truly is..."

 "....Can't believe..."

 Sehun looks over at Luhan worryingly, but Luhan shoots him a gaze gushing with contentment and patience. The worst of the storm was over. 

 "Look at me only, okay hyung?"

 "Yeah."

 It's not too hard to spot a stumbling 185 centimeter something elf, his shockingly business-like hair doing a poor job to disguise the frantic look that stains his face, his tie now flopping around almost comically. Kyungsoo's right behind him, just as jittery but shorter and doing a better job of keeping his composure. 

 His palms don't sting anymore, with Sehun rubbing them gently and smoothing out the subtle pain. Luhan sticks out a tongue to wet his lips quickly, before turning towards them. Despite being ready to call their names out in a weak manner, Chanyeol's post-surgery eyes widens, speed-walking towards the two.

 "Hyung!" 

 Steady.

 "Hyung," Chanyeol gasps, throwing his arms around Luhan and nearly bumping into Sehun, surprised. "Oh God, hyung, Lulu!" he's messing up Luhan's hair again, and in retrospect, Luhan would've pushed him off and reprimand him for messing up 1/4's worth of hair gel. But now, he's just to happy to be embraced in his friend's' arms.

 "Yeollie," Luhan murmurs, trying to pry his fingers off of the back of his head. "Are you...crying?"

 Chanyeol sniffles. "No, why would I?" Kyungsoo pulls Chanyeol off, whose eyes are indeed puffy and red. "Allergies. I'm allergic to Kyungsoo." That earns a flat smack on the stomach from Kyungsoo, and Chanyeol doesn't flinch because he's too busy coughing into his arm and dabbing at his pretty eyes. "Stop looking at me like that, hyung, I'm not, I'm not crying!"

 "You're like a puppy, Yeol," Luhan breathes out in relief, Sehun chuckling beside him. "The world isn't too kind to puppies."

 "Well, it's not too kind to deer-faced men with a bubble tea addiction either," Chanyeol throws back, but his face is so blessed with a wide grin and baring nearly all of his teeth, amazingly so. Seulgi's beside him, adjusting her sleeves as she smiles contently at him. Chanyeol turns abruptly towards Sehun, opening his arms, too. "And you, Sehunnie! I'm going to kill you with  _the most_  devastating hug, you little—,"

 Chanyeol's groping at Sehun's arms, the two of them bursting into laughter not meant for a banquet like this. It doesn't matter anymore. Luhan averts his eyes from the pleasant sight towards Kyungsoo, anxiously offering a small smile to Kyungsoo. "Kyungsoo-ah..."

 "Idiot," Kyungsoo wastes no time. "You idiot...idiot hyung. Stupid, how could you be so stupid? You're our hyung, you shouldn't...be so stupid..."

 "I'm sorry."

 "You better be," Kyungsoo's eyes are just as bright as his, maybe even more noticeable with his owl-ish eyes that seems to penetrate any being's soul. Especially Luhan's at this moment. "Idiot, idiot,  _idiot_. 10  _damn years_  and you...couldn't even tell us? I don't understand," Kyungsoo takes a few steps closer, a weak and meaningless punch square on Luhan's shoulder, over and over as Kyungsoo's voice breaks. "We're college buddies, high school friends, _my colleague,_  and we're all so close..."

 "I'm sorry, Kyungsoo-ah." Luhan says, voice choked as he reaches out to give Kyungsoo's shoulder a squeeze, offering an apologetic smile that's oh so sad.

 "I could've helped."

 "You couldn't," Luhan half-whispers. "It's not a day and done deal, I'm still struggling with it now, and it's not simple at all."

 Kyungsoo, out of all of them is the most resourceful when it comes to money, words, and feelings. He has plenty of them, enough to go around twice and maybe three for the last two. But he is also quiet, opting to give an eye roll with his face resting on his palm and bending his wrist backwards rather than confess to that sophomore crush he had with bubblegum kisses. 

 Expressing, depicting it to be of some greater value is a lost art that Kyungsoo possess; it's just rare to show it. 

 "Is this your Christmas gift to us?" Chanyeol pipes up, arm slung around Sehun, and Sehun looks a lot brighter and less sullen from earlier with Sungmin and Yesung. 

 "No," Luhan shakes his head, smiling softly. "You can get your gifts tomorrow."

 "We can talk more another time," Seulgi suggests. "It's Christmas, we should be happy enough."

 "We're going home," Luhan says apologetically. "Unless Sehun wants to stay then by all means."

 "I think it's best if we go home for now," Sehun says soothingly, hooking his arm from Chanyeol and ducking down to press a kiss to Luhan's temple, earning delightful pale coral colors at lovable cheeks. "This is...all very overwhelming." Luhan nods nervously, patting at his cheeks to cool them and earning a giggle from Seulgi and...the same from Chanyeol?

 "Everything will be fine, Sehunnie and hyung," Kyungsoo speaks out again, hands stuffed in his pocket and his eyes had softened. "Don't listen to them."

 "I'm not. We're not," Luhan confirms gently. "I...I really like Sehun-ah." Sehun coughs at this, face flushed in embarrassment and it's so cute. "Thank you."

 "Be happy?"

 Kyungsoo pulls him into a real hug this time, a ragged breath from him as he pats the hyung. "You must've suffered a lot," he whispers. "We're here for you."

   


➳➳➳

 

 

 "I wasted your time," Luhan says mournfully, stepping out of the car and clutching his hat tightly against his chest instead of on his head.

 "Stop saying that," Sehun says urgently. "I'm just worried, that something's going to go bad at work for you. And because of me and my wants—,"

 "It's not because of you, I mean yes, it's because of you but not like that. But I'm breathing alright now." It's really Christmas in Seoul, carolers in groupings of four skittering to a halt in front of some lonely or crowded cafe, bursting their vocals with jovial songs in both Korean and English. "Was it like this feeling for you, Sehunnie? When you came out, did it feel lighter, here?" Luhan makes a circular motion at his chest, staring fondly up at Sehun who stops in front of him.

 "Yeah, it did," Sehun replies, pulling on the sleek black handles to the apartment lobby. "But it also felt suffocating, because of my family." Luhan stops in his tracks, looping arms with Sehun again and nuzzling his face into Sehun's side, the kind of notion that drives Sehun crazy and has his hands running through tangled hair for hours on end against their duvet.

 "Merry Christmas, again." Luhan's mushed up against Sehun, making his voice sound all muddled and funny. "I have your gift upstairs, you should...I hope you'd like it."

 "Kissing you would've been a good enough Christmas gift," Sehun says jokingly, but it sounds so incredulous at what Luhan said, his hand resting at the nape of Luhan's neck, caressing the hot skin that's a beautiful contradiction to the Seoul weather shitting on them.

 "I can give you that, too," Luhan says, his voice sounding like the wine at the banquet. "A lot of it." Sehun hisses through his teeth, a puff of crystallized air appears before dispersing into nothing, cigarette-infested air with a dash of nicotine when people are trying to go clean. 

  Taking the elevator has been easier nowadays, the faint background of English holiday songs that Sehun hums along to, at one point pulling Luhan in with an oof and humming against his neck, ticklish Luhan squirming and chuckling. Under no one's gaze, hedonistic and the sense of security unfolds. 

 Maybe this love is esoteric, but that doesn't stop Sehun from pulling Luhan's legs around his waist when they shut their apartment door, earning a squeal from Luhan as he carries Luhan koala-style towards the couch, dipping them to the seat and crawling onto of him, peppering his jawline with wet kisses.

 "Shit," Luhan grip is tight on Sehun's arms. "We don't even have the lights on...kissing me in the dark, too," Sehun hovers over Luhan enough to give him enough space to arch into him, hand pulling away from under him to tug at the lamp light, bright yellow-ish tint smeared across Sehun's face that's a bit too close to Luhan for cute talk.

 "You looked absolutely stunning in that banquet," Sehun says huskily, and Luhan's throat goes dry. "Really kissable. You actually look kissable all the time."

 "Thanks," Luhan laugh is breathy, sitting up now as Sehun removes himself from Luhan, his hand lingering on his knee teasingly, pushing it down further and causing Luhan to pull his knees up to his chest, resting his chin in the small space in between and staring fondly at Sehun with so much love that it overwhelms Luhan himself. 

 "You're looking at me like that," Sehun notes softly. 

 "It's loving-kind-of-look," Luhan replies, almost sleepily though he's not. "At least, Jongdae thinks so."

 "Do you think so?"

 "Yeah, I do."

 "You're too good for me," Sehun starts unknotting his tie, pulling the silky material away from his collar and stretching over to set it on the coffee table. "No one had ever looked at me like that."

 "I'm going to give you your Christmas gift early," Luhan says, and Sehun looks at him, wonders and stars and all kinds of everything flawed in beauty makes up Sehun, and Luhan's heart aches to reach out to him again and touch him until both their bodies go numb. 

 "What is it?" Sehun asks quietly, portrayed as a whisper though it's just them two. Luhan pulls himself off, his that that was sticking to the friction-inducing leather peels off, ushering at Sehun to stand up to. Sehun had somehow managed to slip out of the suit and leaving him almost desirably bare—except say for the sheer dress that wrinkles and overlap nearly artistically; sleeves pulled up to expose his wristwatch and prominent veins that Luhan found himself in love with.  
   
 Looping fingers and twirling up arms, Luhan offering a smile frayed at the ends as Sehun quickens his pace to keep up with him, trailing away from the sole dim lamp in the living into the hallway that connects their room, lit by a single stream of frail moonlight. "I've known you since late September or early October," Luhan says, pushing the door to their room and flipping the light switch onto the dim setting. "Four months?"

 "Four months seems kind of short, doesn't it?" Sehun says, grinning. "It's a lot of months...but it felt short."

 "Uh huh," Luhan slips away from Sehun, who goes over to collapse onto the desk chair and pushing himself back comfortably into the cushion. "I'm glad I've known you for four months now." Sehun makes a noise that sounds like between a rough purr and agreement. "Close your eyes?"

 "They're closed."

 "Okay."

 Rummaging through his desk and pushing away neat stacks of papers in his drawer—concealing the velvet-toned box almost flawlessly. Luhan's chest hurts, his heart beating obnoxiously against his rib cages as he pushes his chest down with the flat of his palm. Luhan glances over at Sehun, whose eyes are indeed closed; long and elegant lashes that rest against contoured and sharp cheekbones; a feature envied and vied for by many. 

 The box steady in his hand, Luhan crawls on top of Sehun, his legs digging into Sehun's thighs momentarily before shifting to a position that's comfortable for both of them. "Keep them shut, okay? Don't open them until you feel my hands."

 "Yes, hyung."

 Luhan looks down sheepishly at the medium sized box in his hand, a smooth surface with the offset brick red but more so velvet-like.  _Cartier,_ embed in gold lettering across the front and Luhan traces his fingers across the name, a lip playing about his lips. Looking back up at Sehun, he hesitantly places his hands in Sehun's, signaling him that it's okay to open his eyes.

 "Merry Christmas," Luhan whispers, pressing the box into the boy's hands that still hasn't let go of him. Sehun takes a sharp intake of breath, eyes incredulous at the box in his hand. "I...I really hope you'll like it, and God, I didn't know which one to pick because I didn't know which would be to your liking—,"

 "Hyung," Sehun says, cutting him off. Luhan looks at him in surprised, because it sounds so strained and unwilling.

 "Y-yes?"

 "I...I can't take this," Sehun clears his throat, avoiding eye contact with Luhan as he presses the box back into Luhan's hand with a tremor. "Take it back."

 "Sehun..."

 "That's," Sehun looks pained, trying to push himself back into the seat further, but he can't. "I can't take it."

 "Why not?" Luhan asks, his lower lip quivering as the box in his hand feels a whole lot heavier in his weak grasp. He's sure his heart is being torn apart or being toss through a grinder at the moment. "Sehun, I don't understand."

 "It's...that's expensive!" Sehun's voice a bit too loud, and Luhan winces, curling back into nothing because he's not sure if Sehun wants him to touch him. 

 "I have money, Sehun-ah," Luhan croaks. "I have so much and I want to spend it on you."

 "Please...please don't." Sehun coughs into his arm, squeezing his eyes shut for a while after. "Don't do that, Lu."

 "You don't...want me to?" Luhan asks, and it sounds so cloudy to his own ears. _You don't want me?_

 Sehun's silent for a second, before reaching out to Luhan, pulling him in a bit closer and tightening a hold around the man in his lap, the box in between them digging its sharp edges into both their stomachs. None of them complains. "I'm not worth this much," Sehun whispers, and it sounds so terrible that Luhan wants to pull away and kiss him hard. "So, don't think about doing good things for me. I'm not worth it."

 "You piece of shit," Luhan grips a few bundled up fabric from Sehun's dress shirt, at his shoulder. "Lying is bad, and you're terrible at it. Complete shit." Sehun chuckles into his neck, and it's so nice. "You're worth everything. Every thought and every kiss, you're worth every ounce of attention and every single praise. God damn it, you're worth it, Sehunnie. You're worth so much."

 Sehun grips Luhan's sides even harder, burying his face into the crook of Luhan's neck deeper and deeper. "Do you..." he's muffled. "Think so?"

 "Four months worth everything of you," Luhan replies just as softly. 

 Pulling away and relieving both of them of the dull pain of the box in between them, Luhan pushes it against Sehun for the second time. "It's a couple of thing," Luhan murmurs, urging Sehun to open it. "It's for us." 

 "You're really serious..." Sehun says weakly, pulling it open with the studded diamond on the box handle. "God, Luhan."

 "It's a couple of bracelet, and mine—," Luhan points at the screwed-on one, accompanied by a lone friend of a small decorative screw driver. "It's comes with this screwdriver, so, you wear it as a necklace." Luhan points towards his own neck and making a circular motion. "Symbolizing all sorts of things. Like, only you can open my bracelet." My heart.

 "And this..."

 "Is yours," he motions towards the open ended one, without a screwdriver but of a similar fashion. "Your heart is free. And it's open right there. So, I hope you let me in, in that small open entrance." Sehun swallows. Luhan also got the open-ended one for Sehun because he knows that Sehun's a dancer, and sometimes dances don't call for bracelets. The open-end makes it easier to take off. "I wasn't sure if I should've gotten  _Cartier_  bracelets, because I didn't want to scare you away with anything, but I just,"

 "Falling in love with each other a lot faster." Sehun offers, leaning in a few centimeters closer, tips of their noses brushing against each other, shivering. "You didn't need to buy me expensive gifts. Kissing you is a luxury itself, Lu."

 "Y-yeah."

 "Thank you," Sehun's breath is hot on Luhan's cracked lips. "For the bracelets and...telling me I'm worth it. That I'm hopefully worth your time."

 "Every second," Luhan replies in a hushed voice. "Don't ever think less than that." He has Sehun pull out Luhan's bracelet, trying to keep his hand steady to screw the silver-gold band over Luhan's thin wrist, one of his hands holding Luhan's wrist down as he concentrates on screwing it on, careful with the material and even more gentle with Luhan. 

 When the bracelet is clamped on fittingly around Luhan's wrist, he raises his hand to admire it. "I'll put yours on for you," he says, the foreign feeling of an accessory on his wrist, but he'll get used to it soon. Sehun nods, gulping and watching Luhan carefully pull the open band out of it's socket in the box. Motioning Sehun to push up his sleeves up further, he shifts around so he's better fitted in his lap. "Which wrist?"

 "My right."

 "Your right, got it." Luhan says in a daze, tracing Sehun's wrist bone as he hovers the bracelet over his wrist, clear skin as he pushes the bracelet down snugly, adjusting it before letting go. "Merry Christmas, Sehun." Luhan leans in, only keeping his lower body still and sturdy, his arms as support as his back arcs over to plant new rose buds on Sehun's soft lips, a dry juxtapose of cracked against plush. 

No matter how many times they've kiss; it's knee-shaking worthy, again and again.

   


➳➳➳

The box gets knocked over—neither of them care, because the bracelets are already latched onto their wrists and their screwdriver on the table, even if the box was pretty and classy. 

 Slinking his lazy arms over Sehun's shoulders, intertwining his own fingers at the back of his neck. Sehun pulls his legs apart so there's enough comfortable room for Luhan to fit his thighs in there, Sehun's hands at a lost on whether to card through thick black curls or press bruising touches to the elder's hip. 

 Sehun always manages to somehow taste like faint mint on his lips, Luhan greedily giving a streak of his tongue across Sehun's bottom lip, who tuts it out enough for Luhan to graze it with his frontal teeth, the two of them shivering and Sehun muttering unfathomable words that Luhan can't seem to hear clearly. 

 Luhan feels the Cartier bracelet dig into his waist when Sehun goes to grip at his torso, his grasp clenching and loosening with every press of hot mouths against lips that had been taking a swim in wine only an hour or so ago. They'll be lying if they said they don't taste expensive and old wine on their tongues and lips, because God, it makes the entire kiss wrinkled-free and classy in the sense of all things ravaging and desperation. 

 Luhan doesn't know what he's feeling; his stomach churning with light taps to his breakable rib cages and a whispering from the Devil or an angel to his skin, creating goosebumps that could be easily smoothed out by the hands of a lover. 

 The dress shirt clings to Luhan's skin, gasping into a hollow mouth rich in mint and perfect teeth. "You're not drunk, right?" Sehun's breath is ghosting over Luhan's lips that are now shiny with his own saliva. 

 "I could never get drunk on wine," Luhan says, trying to keep his words steady, but it comes out ragged when Sehun touches a sensitive spot on Luhan's sides, pleasure pooling out in rapid streams through veins that knows nothing more than lust. "I'm a lightweight, but I'm not Yixing."

 "Good," Sehun's lips leaves his, a lover's pout earned and given by Luhan, pressing himself further into Sehun's broad chest, flattening his fingers out against the base of Sehun's neck, whereas the taller one's lips quick and blatant permission for access to tender skin on his neck. "Because I'd never do things to you when you're not in your mind."

 Luhan shivers, nuzzling his nose against the shell of his ear. Suckling against elastic skin seems to be a skill Sehun is rather the master at, leaving Luhan writhing under cold hair and panting at a figure of a man who's too busy planting roses and lilacs in soiled skin. 

 "What are we doing?" Luhan manages to say, between a mirth or two, saved by the ticklish but overall sensational feeling that clinks in him when Sehun's lips pries off his skin. There's something thrilling about the release of burning hot kisses, now in the absence with only the brisk air to nip at the new marks.

 "Kissing," Sehun replies simply, but it's not simple. His cheeks are stained prettily with exertion—both of them. His eyes lidded and inhaling in his cologne. "And touching." Sehun's hands travels down to rest at Luhan's inner thigh, and unconsciously, he pulls his knees apart so that Sehun's hand can rest comfortably. "What do you want to do, Lu?"

 "Kissing," Luhan replies without much hesitation. "Most definitely kissing, and touching." He's leaning in to grab Sehun's lips against, before halting, lips hovering across from him almost teasingly. "But...kissing, and touching in my desk chair isn't so comfortable," Luhan says sheepishly, Sehun's eyes flashing with realization as he turns bashful. A complete 360 from that sultry gaze a few seconds prior. 

 Luhan's ready to push himself off, but Sehun stops him, clasping his lips in his own hold, rubbing the skin together as Sehun stands up, quickly grabbing Luhan's arms and tossing them across his shoulders, Luhan's own legs wrapping around Sehun's waist instinctively. Mouths not even taking a second to dip down or toss back to breathe, Sehun takes a few drunk-like steps to the bed, finally letting Luhan fall against the duvet and abundance of pillows. 

 Splayed hair against the backdrop of a _white-as-Jeju-snow_ pillows, the blanket bunched up under Luhan with Sehun's arms caging both sides of him. Sehun slightly nudges Luhan's back as he tries to pull his hand away, shaking towards the tie that's wrapped around Luhan's collar so neatly. He hesitates.

 "What?" Luhan asks, low and throaty, a delicate attempt to keep his Chinese under his tongue. He sounds as if he just got out of a marathon. "What is it?"

 "Is this," Sehun tugs gently at Luhan's tie, prying a purr from the latter; a surprise to both of them. "What you really want, Luhan?"

 "Yes," Luhan replies genuinely, grasping weakly at Sehun's wrist and brushing against his bracelet, electrifying and by all means comforting to both of them. "I really want this."

 Sehun's eyes blaze with relief and a new light to them that Luhan hasn't found himself familiar with. A surge of up talk bravery has him shooting up, toppling over Sehun as he clambers onto him, pleasuring himself with a reward of Sehun's delightful gasp.

 "Take the tie off me," Luhan demands, perched on top of Sehun's legs almost alarmingly, his hands resting on his thighs, a few fingers away from his groin.

 Bits of Sehun's hair curtains over the edge of the bed, exposing healthy roots and his face clear under the frail room lighting; it must as well be dark. Not saying much, they keep their eyes locked on each other—sometimes dropping too low to each others lips—Sehun grips down the nape of Luhan's neck, pulling him down with a jolt so that his translucent skin is unnecessarily close but above all, enticing. 

 He slips his two fingers through the knot and pries it open, unraveling and loosening the knot and Luhan beams, dipping down so quickly to capture his lips that Sehun has barely enough time to truly pull the necktie away. There's a sliver of sunny, college-student Sehun behind a wolfish grin, and a mildly emotional Luhan somewhere behind the filter of a boy settling in lustfully with a man's hip in between his legs. 

 Tie thrown somewhere in the room, Luhan swallows his lump and tilts his heads, deepening the bittersweet kiss in between him and Sehun, a relaxed moan slipping between throbbing lips. The tips of their noses brush a few times too many, Luhan digging his knees into Sehun's side, prying a blissful sigh from him as his arms fly out to grip his thighs tightly. 

 "Where did you," Sehun's words are all tangled up along with their tongues in a mindless dominance in each others teeth, sometimes the presence of teeth tugging at lips. "Learn to touch like this?" Sehun sits up without warning, mouths not parting for not even a second. Luhan squeaks into his mouth in thought of falling as he does so, but Sehun quickly latches his hands on Luhan's torso, holding him tight against his sweaty chest with only the good-for-nothing dress shirt in the way. 

 Luhan wonders if Sehun catches the brief halt in between tongues, Luhan letting his hands slip from his shoulders and balled up in one wobbly fist. He hums into the kiss absentmindedly, his thoughts not his own again. Luhan tries to find an anchor on Sehun's arms, but it slips like a wet surface. 

  _Where did you learn to touch like this?_

  _When I was 12._

 Luhan presses a thin strip of teeth against Sehun's lips, quivering.  _It's okay, Luhan. That's over, you're over it. He's gone, you're gone. You're not your past, it's okay, Luhan, it's okay—_

 "Luhan?" Luhan blinks, not realizing that Sehun had pulled away until he pressed a thumb over Luhan's lip, caressing it sweetly and worryingly. "You're crying." Luhan widens his eyes, realizing that his cheeks are indeed wet, bringing out the color of flushed pink cheeks, his lashes catching on some of the tears and flinging subtly as he blinks rapidly. 

 "Why did you stop kissing me?" Luhan asks, his voice a meek tremor as he yanks his hands away from Sehun's skin to wipe hastily at his eyes with his sleeves. When the realization that his hands won't stop shaking dawns on him, he stuffs them in his pocket and averts eye contact with Sehun, sniffling. "Keep kissing me, don't stop."

 Sehun breathes out slowly, cupping the sides of his jaw, gentle as if the bleary-eyed boy in his lap could shatter or break like a deer in a snare. "Luhannie," he shuts his eyes and Luhan does unconsciously so, only to receive a butterfly-like kiss on his temple, thumbs rubbing small comforting circles close to his ear. 

 "Are you going to pry?" Luhan asks, nuzzling his tear-stained face into Sehun's neck and inhaling the scent of intoxicating pine and a bit of Luhan's expensive cologne.

 "No," Sehun says, and it's a weak whisper against only a small body tightly wrapped around his. "Because it's fair, we won't pry, not yet." It doesn't stop him from reaching up and losing his hand in Luhan's curls, gentle strokes at the back of his head. 

 "Not yet?" Luhan echoes, seizing another handful of Sehun's shirt for relief. "That's...thank you. Thank you so much."

 Not yet. One day, maybe next week or next year, they can sit down in the balcony; Luhan's eyes shut like half-moons over a warm cup of hot water or tea—there's no in between—and then they can tell each other, hoping the clutter of street cars and honks can be loud enough to drown out the terrible and shadowed words to be said. 

 But that day is not soon. 

 Sehun, is not Sun Wei, Luhan tells himself that, squeezing eyes shut and exhales, revealing wobbly air around him. Because what Sehun is doing is an act of love that's undeniably special and can not be imitated by any act of non-consensual 'love'. No; no, it wasn't love. Defiling his childhood bed was not love. 

  _It's okay, Luhan._

 "I've been loved hastily," Luhan murmurs into Sehun's ear, who keeps rubbing stars and hearts on his back, tracing and racing the line of his spine chillingly. And it's true, because high school itself left little time to love, and loving in secret was a burden itself that both of them carried until a bone or two snapped. Kissing and chasing the line of veins with non-calloused skins and smelling of musk and tragedy, left in janitor's closets because that's the only place to kiss another man—no, a boy. 

 Love in his early adulthood surely have been adulterous, in late night clubs trying to wipe away who he was with women. 

 Loving was a nonexistence sort of ability in his youth, because what Sun Wei did was not love. Fuck, it was a sense of angst and a man trying to seek love from a child because there's nowhere to turn to the world. Luhan was just there at the wrong time and place.

 He has been loved hastily.

 "I haven't been loved well," Sehun replies, trying to keep his voice light but it fails when it cracks. "We're both fucked ups, it's seductive." Luhan laughs, and it sounds like cracked mosaics in a cathedral. He gently pushes Luhan away from his shoulder so that they're both looking at each other dead in the eye. "I'll love you in the most rightful way."

 "I'll love you well," Luhan says sincerely, so much that Sehun gulps and has his lashes kiss his cheeks again for many the millionth time. Show me that love is not Sun Wei. Luhan, swallowing back a lump, reaches out at the crinkled collar that's begging on its knees to be unbuttoned. Sehun takes a sharp intake, watching his fastidious fingers fasten themselves on his shirt, pulling him sinfully closer. It's an understatement to say Luhan's fingers are trembling.

 Sehun clasps his own hand on Luhan.

 "I..." Luhan laughs breezily, red in the face and shame-faced, awkward and stammering. "I haven't done this in a while."

 "Done what?"

 "Gay sex, this sort of, uh, intercourse." Luhan admits timidly, pouting out beautiful roses of his lips as he ducks his head to avoid eye contact. "It's been awhile."

 Sehun looks surprised, a cute expression seeping through his sultry-voice and dark irises. "Not even porn?" Sehun asks teasingly, ruffling up Luhan's hair and defiling it of the neatness it had earlier at the party. 

 "Too busy," Luhan replies easily, the pinkness in his cheeks almost clearing up. He pushes one button out of the fabric, exposing more of Sehun's neck in a not-so-mild manner. "Bear with me," he finishes off huskily, lips swooping down to trail down more and more of Sehun's skin as each button pops open. 

 Sehun's gasp is so subtle, as if reluctant to exhibit such vulnerability. Luhan decides it's one of the sounds he likes best; enrapturing, alluring, and heated. Luhan strains his neck to layer his skin with wet and detailed kisses, at sensitive skin that he knows not many has had the pleasure to see. Finishing off the last button, the shirt flares outward, Sehun with a low impatience wrestles out of it, jumbling it up somewhere on the floor along with their ties. 

 "Shit," Sehun knocks Luhan over when his shirt disappears from his grasp, Luhan tugging at his own swollen lips when his head finds refuge on his pillow; Sehun especially careful in not getting Luhan harmed in anyway. Luhan sinks his frontal teeth into his poor bottom lip further, eye catching on marbled-like abs that has been obtained by dance and late night gym meet ups when Luhan's sleeping. "Shit, Sehun."

 Sehun looks... _beautiful_. Messy streaks of white blond that settles and clings at his forehead, sharp collarbones that juts out almost teasingly so; pressing Luhan to reach out to run his hand up and down a body that seems to be contoured by the muscles and dim lighting. "How do you want me to do this?" Sehun asks, finalizing his rough draft of words with a bite on too plush lips, a loud smacking sound of wet skin. 

 "Touch me," Luhan replies brokenly, eyes wide as he loses himself into everything that Sehun has to offer and so much more. "God,  _fuck,_ touch me, Sehunnie."

 A notion of honest words sets out to excite him, lowering himself down onto Luhan, legs resting and sandwiching Luhan's breakable hips lovingly, careful not to put too weight on the smaller one. Long and dainty fingers reaching out, unbuttoning the long array of them expertly, not messing up a beat as his breathing gets honed to only his chest. 

 There's something angelic about a man whose childhood has been defiled by many, like the way his cheeks are painted like the rose bouquets in Hyunjae's floral shop, or it could be the way his half-lidded eyes has him settling for the image of compelling and seductive without being intentional. Sehun's eyes trails down the perfect slope of his nose, kissable at the top and leading to angular cupid bows. 

 An angel just missing the white shirt when it slips off, exhibiting small shoulders and sharp hip bones that are slightly hidden by Sehun's thighs. Luhan shuts his eyes, letting the cool air calm his burning skin. No, he is not as lean and built as Sehun is. A share of his own few muscles here and there, but he seems so small and fragile in contrast to him. 

 Sehun hovers over Luhan, lips in contact with his neck in a suckling kiss. Luhan writhes, latching his arms around Sehun's shoulders and neck. His spine has a mind of its own; arching forward despite being little to no room. It's electrifying, searing hot skin on skin, clammy palms that pointlessly grasps at shoulder blades as he leaves a wet trail of sincere and lustful kisses on his neck, even between the dip of collarbones.

 "Do you like this?" Sehun's laughing against his skin, Luhan squirming out of ticklish love and the way Sehun palms his bare spine senselessly, hands racing up and down and following the curve. 

 "Fuck," Luhan squeezes his eyes shut, pulling his knees up halfway and brushing pass Sehun's half-hard. "Yes, Sehunnie, God, you're touching me like that."

 "Like what?"

 "Like," Luhan conceals a squeal with incoherent swears in Chinese when Sehun slips down further on his back and down his pants, taunting him with fingers that's a bit too close to sensitive skin. "Like you  _love_ me." Luhan can't even begin to comprehend how it feels to be loved. 

 That sets Sehun off, a low growl from the base of his throat as Luhan breathes heavily into the shell of Sehun's ear, beaten up tongue darting out to trace the outline and earning a shudder from Sehun as he pushes Luhan down again, while still maintaining a charismatic aura and making sure his head won't ever hit the headboard. 

 "I won't break, Sehunnie."

 Sehun murmurs something about, ' _I know'_ , eyes dark and glistening with a new profound lust. Sehun curls his fingers, clasping onto Luhan's waistband, tugging it up and exposing Calvin Klein. It's an erotic sight to Sehun, suggestive themes of underwear peeking out of black sleek pants that belongs to a doe-like boy, gasping under every touch and every fond kiss. "May I...?"

 "Do anything to me, Sehun-ah," Luhan says in a daze, clutching the back of his pillow like a lifeline.  _Show me a way to love._  But most of all,  _show me that there's more to love than childhood bedrooms_. "Fuck, I want to do  _everything_  to do you." 

 The sound of unzipping zippers pries a purr out of him, arching forward unconsciously into the act. Sehun steadies his waist, fingers looping into the waistband and pulling it down gently; almost slides off easily, courtesy of small-faced thighs and Luhan wiggling his ass around to push it down further.

 Pant-less, shirtless, Luhan feels utterly all dressed up and naked, the Calvin Klein underwear a hindrance, standing into the way of Sehun and the image of Luhan's alarmingly sharp hip bones and half-hard bulge.

 Luhan recalls the sinner on stage a little while ago, who danced with a sheer shirt and tight pants; ballet slippers accompanying his graceful feet and doted on with makeup. Only now, the stage consists of a messed up duvet and strewn shirts, ties, and pants across the floor or hanging off the mattress. Doted on with marks and feet digging into blankets to anchor them down. 

 Sehun leans in to give a damp kiss with his tongue, a streak of saliva down his faint strip of hair and a bit of his belly button. In another time and day, Luhan would have recoiled and wrinkled his nose in disgust at the idea of such notion before, but all it is now is Luhan swearing in two languages and raking his fingers through Sehun's soft hair. 

 "Wait," Luhan gasps edgily, Sehun's hand palming the bulge under his underwear, and Luhan nearly regrets saying anything when his hand stops, resting on top of his near-erection. "Not fair. Take off...your fucking pants, Sehunnie." Luhan pushes himself up, wincing when there's a dull pain in his erection and shit, he needs to relieve of it quick.

 Luhan seizes Sehun's own waistband, Sehun laughing is breathy and dear God, it's sexy as hell. Even his voice alone, sensual and erotic enough to send Luhan's insides twisting and wringing themselves dry. Fumbling with the button then the zipper, he unzips it all the way. Swallowing when his wrist and Cartier bracelet brushes against his hard, Sehun rolls his head back and moans, all the more enticing.

 Pants off and laying on the floor next to Luhan, he clambers onto him and grabs his mouth with his. "Kiss me," Sehun groans into Luhan's lips, hands gripping on his bare and thin shoulders. They're almost fully naked, wet patch of precome rubbing against each others groins as Sehun's lips latches onto Luhan's like a full lock. 

 His tongue knocks against his palate, dominance of a faint-distant when they're just trying to taste each other further, losing each other in mint and taste of flesh. Luhan ends up toss back down on the mattress, Sehun now truly seeking control, bruising lips and demanding touches. 

 This isn't like janitor closet kisses anymore, Luhan's lip being mercilessly devoured by a boy who's the work of the Devil. He nearly hiccups when Sehun dips his fingers into his waistband, rubbing the sensitive skin of a V line, standing back to admire a face twisted in a maelstrom of candy-like features and exertion, bejeweled with gems of sweat close to his hairline. 

 "I'm so lucky," Sehun says, eyes darting back and forth at the embarrassingly expanding wetness in perfectly good underwear, to teeth being not at all unusually cruel to lips that he could kiss for days. "Can you show how lucky I am?"

 Luhan lets his eyes slips back under the thin skin of creased eyelids, his own panting sounding so thick to his own ears. There's something special about Sehun's tone of voice, driven by a sheer force of lust and impacting desperation that borders on impatience; most of all, there is love and genuine words, all three Luhan had rarely been able to experience at the same time. 

 Luhan tugs on Sehun's shoulders weakly, pulling the younger one on top of him. His groin comes in contact with the well-defined chest of his, precome that leaks through the material and dabbing Sehun's stomach gracefully. Wrapping his legs around his torso, Luhan caresses the back of Sehun's neck; where he knows is his most sensitive spot that's not clothed half of the time. 

 Luhan, feeling a little bit adventurous and already completely aroused, ushers his own hands down Sehun's back and experimentally, digs his nails in, wondering what kind of reaction he can get.

 "Oh  _fuck,_ Lu," Sehun gasps, his lips leaving his chest and a low whine is buried all that heavy breathing, his chest slicked with Sehun's tongue and lips now deprived as Sehun lets his eyes roll back, lip being torn by his own teeth. "Liar, Lu, you're a damn liar. Are you sure," Luhan digs his nails even further, a lover's induced moan slipping through his words. "You haven't done this recently?"

 "I'm sure," Luhan croaks.

 Sehun peels himself off of Luhan's sweaty and slick chest, eyes hungry and alarming Luhan in the most attractive way he didn't know was possible. Luhan's not the only one full-on hard now, Sehun's bulging out under the prison hell of tight underwear. The edginess in Sehun's eyes disappears momentarily, his eyes returning to those of sweet and cute tea shop worker, the kinds that Luhan swear he fell in love with since he walked in. He looks at Luhan directly, as if asking for permission.

 With a slow and eager nod, he's laid completely naked under dark hue of unmistakable brown hues, spreading over his delicate body like a bed sheet. It's only then that Luhan's very much aware of things in realistic terms, his cheeks flushed red as he tries to cover his face, closing his legs up and attempt of modesty. 

 "Luhan," Sehun murmurs, when Luhan sits up again with his face still covered. "What's wrong?"

 "I'm not," he struggles. "I'm not...you must've been with a lot of beautiful people and I'm all flesh and bones so I'm not sure—,"

 Sehun grips the back of Luhan's neck and pulling him into a kiss. Except this one was sweet and only lips, caring and thoughtful. "Please don't think like that," Sehun begs against his lips, Luhan melting into it and giving it all. "You're beautiful and loved."

 Beautiful and loved. 

 It only takes a few sincere words to completely destroy the life Sun Wei had made out of him. 

 Luhan loosens up again, collapsing as Sehun's lips leaves his with a final parting kiss of chastity, to re-position in a way that Sehun's cock is pressed up against Luhan's inner thigh, a low moan hacking into an air of Christmas seasons and sex. "Rude," Luhan hisses through his teeth. "You're not even...fully undressed." Sehun's close enough that when he flutters his eyes shut, Luhan feels it tickling his jaw. 

 Sehun's eyes are a whirlpool of vulnerabilities, innuendos, and mild curiosity. Luhan ushers him to press his back against the backboard, Sehun's chest splotched red from Luhan's kisses and excitement. His fingers only shake a bit, toying at his black matted waistband, tugging down only by a margin to torture both of them. 

 "Do you...do you have, do you have...?" Luhan stammers, abashed and cringing inwardly at his own stuttering. Sehun melts and pools at Luhan's feet at the sound of his voice, managing his unstable breathing well, just long enough to reply and string up a coherent sentence.

 "Do I have what, Lu?"

 "Lube," Luhan mutters. "I have...I have condoms but not," he sinks his teeth into his lip frustratingly. Sehun, however, finds it utterly adorable as he reaches over to rub his thumb gently over Luhan's lower lip. 

 "You can thank Jaehyun," he murmurs. "He bought me a set of lube for Christmas as a gag." Luhan laughs, but it doesn't break the sexual and intimate tension in between them. "It's in my bag by the bed." Sehun twist his back trying to reach for the bag, but Luhan stops him but lacing his fingers through his. 

 "Wait," Luhan says, his eyes doe-like and bright. "I want to...I want to do something for you, before we get that."

 Sehun stares at him with clouded eyes, Luhan swallowing the lump in his throat, clearing it. His expression flickers towards Sehun, because the latter reminds him so much of those teenagers in bars he has run into, a swing of cheap alcohol and reeking of intimacy. It's hilarious, comical even, because Sehun...

 Luhan tugs at the elastic of his band, slipping it past pallid flesh that Luhan wants to take into his mouth until they're left sticky and red. It sort of a whole different thing, stripping Sehun, mapping out where his legs end where to start kissing. It's been years since he has done this, sloppy mouth and strawberry coated lips in high school because it was for experimenting and trying to conceal himself. 

 A small trickle of embarrassment when it hits him that he doesn't really know where he's going with this. Luhan concentrates on pulling the clothing piece down his thighs, leaving it at Sehun's dancer's ankles for him to kick off himself. 

 Luhan mumbles something about being completely awkward, his cheeks still tinted a bright red that's an unearthly complement to his complexion of messy ebony hair that has been fisted by the handful by Sehun more often than not; eyes that rarely loses the spark it hones and a puffy lower lip that looks like he's sporting lipstick when really, it's just bruising forces of a lot of kissing and more. 

 Sehun...Sehun is, "Oh my God," Luhan says through his teeth breathlessly. "You're..." Luhan covers his face, abashed. _Big_. He's big. 

 Lips stretching inwardly and over his rows of teeth, he lowers his head, locks of his own hair falling in front of his eyes. Faltering a few centimeters away, in awe of the throbbing crown of Sehun's cock staring right back at him, he lets his eyes flickering up to a blissful Sehun, a few seconds early of the most rawest of human gasps and small noises, bits of Luhan's name mixed in there with jumbled up compliments. 

 Sehun's hip buckles and thrusts up, a bit restrained because he's still all aware of Luhan and not wanting him to choke. "Oh my,  _fuck_ , Lu. You're...you're so good." This excites Luhan, encouraging him as he puckers out his lips, exposing the teeth he had wrapped under wet lips, grazing the sides of Sehun's erection. This rips the biggest reaction from Sehun yet, whose hands are digging into the skin between his neck and shoulders. Hearts racing, Luhan spills out all kinds of new feelings.

 Suckling on the thick crown, unconsciously, he presses his hands on either side of Sehun's inner thighs, rubbing them senselessly. Sehun particularly likes the bracelet clinking against his skin. Dragging teeth against the sides and too close to the foreskin; Sehun writhes under him and it's a delight to see him in this sort of state, especially him doing it to Luhan earlier. 

 Luhan lets his tongue glide across the base when he reaches it, the throbbing cock in his mouth sets an obstacle to moans as Sehun purposes shifts around, straining his hand to palm Luhan's own hard, whose crowd is dew with his own precome that Sehun lathers around the shaft, and Luhan wants nothing more to seal himself to Sehun forever. 

 His cock is pulled away from Luhan's lips when Sehun pushes his own rotating hips down with discipline; secured against defiled bed sheets that needs a new layer tomorrow. Luhan pants heavily, ghosting against Sehun's throb with cherry pop lips and small hand imprints on the sides of Sehun's thighs. 

 "Lube and condoms," Luhan pants, eyes abashed as he swoops down to press a gentler kiss to Sehun's top, wetting his lips even more. Sehun's eyes, ablaze and sweat finds a steady and shallow stream down the area of collar bones down to the invisible line that parts his parallel chests. Luhan thinks Sehun's nodding, but he's too busy ducking his head down to pull at the drawer hastily, snatching up a handful of condoms.

 "We only need one," Sehun says, smiling fondly. "Unless you want to go for several rounds..."

 Red-faced, Luhan smacks Sehun's chest, tossing the others into the drawer. Sehun leans across Luhan, purposely letting his hand brush past Luhan's dick. There's a trail of precome that dabs Sehun's fingertips prettily, Luhan fishing his hand into his bag, rummaging through Sehun's belongings until he receives the touch of a tube. Snatching it up, he sees the seal is on it, with a sticky note from Jaehyun, ' _u lil shit'._  

 "I could kill him," Sehun says breathlessly. 

 "I could thank him," Luhan says cutely, mainly because his voice is so frail from all the whining and raw sounds he has been making. Luhan presses a chaste kiss to Sehun's lips. "It's thanks to him, for gifting this." Luhan grins when he pulls away.

 Sehun's tearing the foil wrapping with his teeth when Luhan protests. "Huh?"

 "I want to put it on for you," Luhan says, clutching the tube of lubricant in his hand after Sehun crumpled up the sticky note. When Sehun doesn't say anything or makes any movement of rebuttal, Luhan plucks the half torn condom packet in his hand, pulling it out of its perfectly tucked place. 

 Mindlessly humming close to Luhan's ear while entangling fingers in fine hair, Luhan focuses on the red throb that just screams to be licked up and down again. Snugly fitting the latex over his cock, Luhan grazes the base with his fingernails, Sehun's humming even throatier after that stunt. "Luhan, you're going to be the fucking death of me."

 Luhan looks up at Sehun for a spare second, losing all sense of everything they should hone in them, too busy concentrating on long lashes and freckles after the BB cream faded. It's no big secret that Sehun's fidgeting with his fingers, itching to pin the elder down and run a soft tongue against a sharp jawline. 

 That's exactly what Luhan's craving for. 

 Flipping the top off, Luhan gives the bottle a squeeze, a copious amount of lube splattering against his palms before he drop the bottle onto his lap. "Am I...I'm doing this right, right?" Luhan asks hopefully, a little bit embarrassed to the point where inner Luhan kind of wants to slam himself against a wall, but outer Luhan wants Sehun to slam into him. 

  _Shut up, Luhan._  

 "Y-yeah," Sehun replies, enraptured as he eyes him. "You're doing great, Lu."

 Luhan nods slowly, letting the thick substance spread across his palms as he uses both hands to spread it all over his hands, trying to warm it up. "And then..." Luhan mumbles, nudging Sehun to lie down again so he can cup Sehun's cock in his hand—though it doesn't fit completely, the tip of his leak peeking out through the latex. Rubbing his hands up and down, dampening the condom with lubed-hand hands, Sehun rolling his head back with his shoulder blades protruding. 

 When it's just his hands sticky with the remains, Sehun doesn't waste a second to latch himself on him, pressing him back onto the mattress as he's bound to it always, greedy and hungry eyes roaming down where his rib cages are located. "I'm going to prep you up, okay Lu-hyung?" Luhan only manages a nod, before squeezing his eyes shut and gripping the bed sheet around him so tightly that one could be worried that it'd rip.

 "Sehun, please just," Luhan hiccups. "Make me feel good. Make it better, Sehunnie."

 Sehun's hands commands Luhan to pull his legs apart, resting them up at his hip with Luhan's toes curling inward from the tension. Sehun inhales slowly at the sight. "You're beautiful from every angle," he tells him, and Luhan's cheeks heats up at that. "I want to explore every angle of you."

 "You will," Luhan says, strained. Impatient as he is, Luhan, above all, is so genuinely happy Sehun is taking his time with the man, careful and delicate strokes of every curve and outline of bones. "And I to you."

 The lube is in Sehun's possession now, Luhan on the edge of everything that is in front of him, undeniably charismatic boyfriend. "You know how I'm going to...prep you right?" Sehun asks, worryingly. 

 Luhan hesitates. "You're...you're going to," Luhan looks for the word. "Finger me, that kind of prepping?" Sehun's eyes widens by a fraction, but he nods.

 "It might hurt," Sehun whispers.

 "Sehun, I'm giving myself to you," Luhan murmurs, his cheek pressed to the side of his pillow. "Take everything."

  Sehun isn't tentative anymore, letting himself release as Luhan luxuriates in the feeling of Cartier bracelets against hot skin and arousals. His eyes still shut, blowing out huffs of breaths as Sehun spreads lube across his fingers, causing friction and heat between his fingertips when he rubs them together. 

 "I can't get over how," Sehun taunts him by pushing his thumb against pink that clenches at contact. "Beautiful you are, clothed or naked." Luhan flushes for probably for the hundredth time, and more to come. 

 "Do you..." Luhan asks, voice muffled into the side of his pillow. "Really find me beautiful?"

 Sehun hasn't ever called him pretty, or  _niang pao_. It...it feels nice. Yeah, it does. 

 "Unmistakably," Sehun replies easily, tugging at the muscles around his asshole, in wonder how small an act can take so much out of Luhan, yet he'll still have so much to offer to say. "If it hurts..."

 "Sehun," Luhan rasps unintentionally. "Shut up."

 Luhan starts off with Sehun drumming his semi-dry fingers against his pink wrinkle; earning a broken moan that Luhan muffles against the side of his bed, fingers curling in only bedsheets because that's the closest he can get. 

 Luhan hasn't ever been touched like this, not out of love, at least. High school were for the shame-faced and quickies, left to do it himself because the other boy was too busy keeping on the watch in the gym locker. Came on his own fingers, sometimes. But with Sehun, he takes his sweet time, slow and gentle with all kinds of lust tucked away and laced around careful motions. 

 Sehun dips his lubed-up finger in easily, dull pain knotting around his aroused area and Luhan whines immediately, no matter how embarrassed he is to hear his own sex sounds against his ears. Sehun, on the other hand, lidded and lips parted in a daze whenever Luhan's silky voice produces such sounds that he knows he has the pleasure of hearing, and keeping to himself. 

 "Oh, fuck, fuck." Luhan stuffs a small bundled-up part of his blanket into his mouth, sinking his teeth down so he can suppress himself. "Oh...Sehunnie, oh gosh," he says around it, followed by a string of Chinese swears and something that suspiciously sounds like Sehun's name. "This feels so...nice, so fucking nice."

 "It's only one digit," Sehun says lightly, but his strained eyes says otherwise as he takes in Luhan's sweaty skin around the collar bone and jawline, curling his fingers in at the sight. "I don't think you're able to handle a few more."

 "Sehun-ah," Luhan whines, hands almost thrashing around. "Please...a few more. It feels so good, you're so...so good." His spine bends, and his leak drips a few down his sides and dropping on Sehun's knuckles, but he has no complaints. "Please." And with that, Luhan musters all the vulnerabilities he has into one word.

 Sehun breaks immediately. 

 Pushed to the edge, Sehun slants his fingers and slips 2 more in, a cry torn from Luhan's lips and all is gone, modesty, shame, and hesitation. "Oh—Sehun you..."

 Luhan can't form any more coherent sentences, settling for Chinese and losing his filter. A few push and pull of wet fingers against wetter muscle. Somewhere in between hitched voices and panting, Sehun slips in another finger before quickening his pace, swooping down to kiss the top of Luhan's cock. " _You're_...I think you're ready." He pulls out the digits teasingly, each finger that slips out has Luhan's pretty ankles nudge at his sides harder and desperate.

 Sehun wipes his fingers on his thighs, taunting Luhan but brushing them close to his lips. "You're sure you want to do this, right Lu?"

 "Stop," Luhan mutters, shutting his eyes shut as his chest, pained with exertion and arms shaking. "Asking me that. I want this." Luhan pushes himself up, aching at his lower body and Sehun shoots him a worry look. "I'm not that weak, Sehunnie." He presses a kiss to Sehun's cheek, to comfort him. "I really want you to fuck me. Or make love to me. Which ever way you can show me that you really care at me."

 "I care about you so much..." Sehun says, his voice desperate to make sure that is established between them two.

 Luhan cracks a smile through sweats and breathlessness. "Me too, I might go crazy if you aren't..."  _there anymore._ "So it's okay, I won't break, okay. Just...fuck me. Fuck me." Sehun shivers at that, gripping heavily at the lubricant. 

 Sehun probs Luhan to lay back down, without throwing him down or tossing him. He makes sure Luhan's back is pressed against the soft mattress comfortingly; his hair sprawled across a set of pillows with his bangs pulled back. Luhan watches Sehun from his angle, reopening the lubricant and spreading it over his hands again, lathering his condom-ed cock again.

 "Oh..." Sehun notices Luhan's gaze. "We...we had it applied too early so it's dried up," he says sheepishly. 

 "Oh my God." Luhan's eyes widens. "That was my fault, wasn't it? Oh, shit, that's so embarrassing," Luhan rolls to his side, covering his eyes. "I could die right now, oh gosh, oh gosh. Why didn't you tell me?" Sehun jumps at the sudden burst of scrambled words. 

 "I found it endearing," Sehun says simply. "I find everything you do lovable." 

 Luhan's cheeks are pinker than last time."You just want to tease me."

 Sehun chuckles, eyes locked on Luhan's and taking in everything, with both of his knees seductively pressed together with only spacing between his shins. Pretty fingers clenching at nothing by his side. Utterly beautiful. 

 Sehun slowly pulls up to Luhan, hovering over him with tender eyes, threading his fingers through Luhan's hair. He leans down to kiss the top of his lids on both sides, to reassure Luhan of all the warmth he needs and desires. 

 Pulling his knees apart, Sehun fits in the space in between. Luhan's voice hitches when the tip of Sehun's cock pushes against the front of Luhan's ass. Luhan, not know what to do with his hands, rakes them through his hair instead because he's itching to do something with them. 

 Luhan's own cock is against Sehun's stomach, Sehun's cock slipping in roughly. "Shit—I thought I prepped you well, you're tight,  _so tight._ " Sehun gasps, half of his cock in and Luhan's whimpering, desperate to grab out for Sehun's hands which are too busy gripping Luhan's thighs. "You're so sexy, Luhan, hyung. You're really beautiful," Sehun cooes him with a hoarse voice, stroking his soft, small thighs up and down as he settles in him. 

 Fully in, the lube doing it's best job around the walls of Luhan's ass. Sehun slowly slides out just by a tittering best, heart clenched by the idea of potentially hurting someone who hasn't done this in years, a doe-boy that's completely his. But it gets easier, less friction as he slides back and forth, the motion has Luhan purring out his name in several intervals, hiccups, and soft moans.

 "This feels so nice," Luhan grabs a fistful of his own hair, arched back and shoulders aching in dull pain. "Oh... _oh_!" Sehun, eager by the loudness of Luhan's voice gives a more tensed and harder push. Luhan's entire body shakes in sweats, a scream almost a whisper against parched lips. " _Sehun_!"

 "Does this feel nice?" Sehun asks huskily, removing a hand from Luhan's thigh to stroke the cock positioned against his stomach, his thrusts and pulls steady with a pattern. "Do I make you feel good?"

 "Yes! Oh,  _yes, yes, yes._ " Luhan nods rigidly, trying to keep his body intact. "You...I can't believe you," he tries to laugh, but it fails as it gets swept away with pants, eyeing the way Sehun manages to fuck him at the time give him a stroke. "Right there—I think you...found it, yes, you found it Sehunnie." Luhan gasps out, out of pitched but he doesn't care. Sehun gives his cock a tender stroke at the crown before pulling away, focusing all his strength into Luhan.

 "Right there, Lu?" Sehun asks, wincing as he palms the back of Luhan's knees.

 "Most...most definitely there!" Luhan nearly shrieks, tears as pinpricks, lashes batting down furiously and wetting the areas around his eyes. "Oh, fuck, I'm so...I'm close." It's been a long time since Luhan has experienced an orgasm, the new idea and act bringing watery eyes and burning lips to the touch when Sehun releases inside him, caving in all his walls. 

 "Oh  _fuck_ , Lu." Sehun groans, throwing his head back with a jolt. "You're..."

 "I'm really...so clo—" Luhan cries out abruptly, clasping his hands to his face and digging in at his cheeks to ease the tension, his throbbing cock spurting out and painting across in the forms of smear on Sehun's stomach, fingernails close to wet skin from sweat and tears. 

 Luhan peeks through his slim fingers, his own fast breathing coating his palms in humidity as he pulls them away, watching Sehun sheepishly. Sehun's hair is damp with sweat, a bit of it dripping down his chest and his arms look so kissable and cuddley. His eyes flicker to the messy streaks of his own release on Sehun's toned stomach, smiling faintly.

 Sehun pulls himself away, nearly collapsing on his own trembling arms as they support him. Luhan's about to sit up, but the ache shoots up his torso, leaving him wincing and dropping back onto the bed. "Hyung?" Sehun asks quietly, and Luhan hears rustling of the blankets and Sehun coming closer towards him. "It...it didn't hurt too much, right?" he asks again, eyes brimmed with worry. 

 Luhan smiles sleepily, pulling Sehun down for the gentle touch of a kiss. "It was...it was amazing, Sehunnie." Luhan says honestly, a bright smile pins itself up on Sehun's lower face. Tiredly, Luhan nudges him on the forearm, fingers gliding down to toy with the bracelet. "Lay down. I like cuddles."

 "Me too."

 Sehun peels the blankets apart and slipping into one of them, their bare thighs brushing until they overlap. Luhan's facing him, face both sweaty and red, though the room is cooling them down. Nuzzling his nose into the crook of Sehun's neck, he exhales, relieved. "Was I...was I okay?"

 "You were beautiful and everything wonderful," Sehun murmurs into his hair, stirring it. He wraps his arms around him, pulling him tightly as if the world would've snatched him up if he didn't. "Don't think otherwise."

 "Okay," Luhan agrees quietly, his eyes falling shut as he breathes him in. He pushes himself closer, trying to get as close to Sehun as possible, finding even more warmth in his body heat. "Is it okay now...will you let me..." he trails off, half of him scared but the other at a lost of words. The good words.

 "Will I let you what?" Sehun asks, stroking the back of Luhan's hair lovingly.

 Luhan winces. "Let me love you?" Sehun takes a sharp intake, fingers faltering in threads of hair. "I'm saying...I'm saying I love you, Sehun." Luhan tries to squeeze his hands out of the space in between him and Sehun's broad chest, to laze around Sehun's waist. "I told you I'd go crazy if you weren't there for me to love, so please."

 Sehun hands stop in his hair, dropping to his neck to give a light squeeze. Luhan would recoil, but there's nowhere to go in his hold. "I wanted to be the first to say it hyung, you beat me." Sehun's laugh sounds so nice on top of his hair, and Luhan decides he likes it somewhere between his moans and whimpers. 

 "Then..."

 "I love you, Luhan."

 He doesn't realize he's been holding in his breath, and when he lets it go, Sehun kisses him at his hairline, the softest one yet.

 "Maybe we should clean up in the shower," Luhan suggest, the realization that they're covered in a lot of things dawning quickly on him, his face blanching. 

 "Later, hyung. I want to hold you longer."

 "Merry Christmas, I love you." Luhan adds the last few words, mostly for himself.  _Yes, you. You have found love again, yes._  "I love you."  _You've found it again._  

 "Could I call it a white Christmas?" Sehun asks teasingly. “Especially with my fillings in your—,”

 "No."

 Snow continues to fall and turn to gray in the muddy streets; but they're okay, in love with soiled bed sheets and bracelets with their declarations embed in it for the kind of effect they've been waiting their whole lives for. 

 Love takes its time, they both learned.

   


➳➳➳

"If you wake up now hyung, maybe Santa Haraboji left something for you under the tree." Sehun's voice is drugged with sleep but he manages to sound so lively and giggly. 

 "We don't have a tree," Luhan deadpans into his arms, burying his forehead in further. "You can't even get real trees here in Seoul."

 "Maybe he left something under the coffee table, you uninspired old man." 

 At that, Luhan tosses and turn, nearly smacking Sehun in the process. "I'm 25. I'm not old!" he points an accusing finger at Sehun's pout, tapping his lower lip teasingly. "You were kissing this  _'old man'_  all night, Sehun." They did shower last night, Luhan slipping only in boxers and a blank tee-shirt being treasuring himself into blankets and sheets that needs to be turned and replaced. He'll do the laundry today, or tomorrow. 

 A lingering kiss of morning breath before throwing the sheets over their shoulders; scrambling off to get to the bathroom before the other does. 

 "You take forever in the bathroom!"

 "No I don't, I just have a shit time trying to find where you keep everything," Sehun replies back, sticking out his tongue immaturely before disappearing. 

 "Sehun-ah, let me in," Luhan raps his knuckles against the door. Sehun blatantly ignores him, turning the shower head on. 

 Scoffing and kicking the door playfully, Luhan dismisses him. He heads to the living room, yanking one of Sehun's hoodies off the hanger, rubbing his palms back and forth to get all the warmth and heat he can afford. Shuffling his socked feet around the apartment, his hair sticking out like electricity and his lower body aching when he does so.

 Living with someone that loves him back, it's one of the most comforting feelings ever. Like waking up to hear rustling next to him, because sometimes Sehun wakes up earlier just to tap away on his phone. Luhan should complain about Sehun's textbooks and manwhas taking up too much room on their shared desk. Or reprimand him for leaving his socks and shoes everywhere in the house. 

 The best thing about living with Sehun is that, Luhan doesn't have to comb his hair neatly and wipe all imperfections off him to talk to him. It emits rays of jovial chuckles and kicking feet when tickling gets too much—all in showing blemishes, freckles, hoodies that does a poor job of covering up bad hair days. 

 Luhan slumps down onto the couch with a yawn, doing the thing with his cupped palms to make that weird  _eoo-eoo_ sound. He can hear Sehun in the shower from all the way over here, snorting when he realizes Sehun's probably going to use up all the hot water for the morning again. 

 Luhan hesitates, being peeking under his coffee table. "Santa Haraboji, huh?" Luhan murmurs, craning his neck to make enough room for his hand to wave around under the table. Feeling hopeful when his wrist comes into contact with a matted bag. 

 Curling his fingers around the the ribbon handle, he pulls it up. Surprisingly heavy, he lets it drop in his lap as he rolls up his sleeves to pry it open. Luhan learns that Sehun is blatantly honest when it comes to gifts—scrawled Luhan's name in crazy fonts across the bag with hearts of weird alien forms surrounding the letters—and it's endearing. 

 It's actually a bundle of gifts, and Luhan finds a smile slip onto his cracked lips immediately. It's a pair of soft gloves and a scarf that's vibrantly bright crimson, a sticky note with a threat that he better wear it or else. Running his fingers through the material, it's just as soft as Sehun's blue one.

 Setting the bag down next him, he wraps the lengthy scarf around his neck, at ease when it brushes against his skin almost welcome-like The soft cashmere nearly engulfs his face whole, but leaving only the top of his nose and his upper face when he first wraps it around; the notion fogging up his reading glasses. Flexing his fingers forth and back and bending them easily, the gloves are like silk on his hands that extends a little bit past his wrist.

 For fun and jokes, Luhan sticks the sticky note on his forehead.

 At the bottom of the bag, Luhan sticks both hands in to pull it out, because it's the one with the most weight. 

 

   _"You really do like taking pictures," Luhan muses, glancing over Sehun's shoulder. "Into photography?" Sehun shrugs halfheartedly, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly._

_"It's a hobby...in between stuff," Sehun weaves through the crowd expertly, while Luhan stumbled behind him. "I work in the mornings, classes in the afternoon. Dance at the studio at night, but I can take pictures anytime, at least."_

 

 Luhan's heart swells at the photo album in his hands. There's a lump in his throat when he tries to breathe, a shuddering sort of air replacing the healthy ones in his lungs. Hands tracing the blunt edges of the leather bound book, his eyes feel so heavy when he catches sight of the photo plastered in the slot where it could serve as the front cover. It's not big secret the scenery behind him was of Yeouido, when the leaves were in the middle of being pretty or dying. He's sure all the leaves are dead and the small pond has toddlers skidding across it now in ice.

  _But he looks so happy._  

 He  _is_  happy.

 Mustering up the unneeded courage to flip through the book, careful with the pages because he doesn't want a single one bent. The first few photos, in HD and looking professionally taken; all of Luhan. His eyes widens when he sees it's photographs of him smiling, bubble tea in hand and sunken down in a bean bag. Or pictures of the bubble tea drawings he gets everyday, his taro special that Luhan never gets tired of.

 

  _"Let's take a picture together, chocolate-hyung." Sehun wiggles around the phone in his hand, and holds it up. Luhan struggles in Sehun's hold, their cheeks pressed together. Sehun presses the button a few times, before letting Luhan go. "I'll send it to you later."_  

 

 And Sehun did send it later, all printed out and glossy in a photo book that's actually hefty. Tears pricks at the corners of his ears, and he has to sniffle to keep them off his cheeks. Tossing his head back and smiling, his visions all blurred. Too busy and involved in the air, he doesn't catch Sehun trudging into the living room, hair wet with his lazy clothes on.

 "Hyung?" Sehun asks curiously. "Why are you crying—oh." 

 Luhan sniffs once more, before turning his eyes towards Sehun. "Come here, you big loof. I want to give you a hug." Luhan flings his arms to the side, flailing them hopelessly with a lover's pout to his lips. "You are so cute." Sehun's face breaks with automatic guilt at Luhan's tears, but he slides next to Luhan, who instantly drapes his arms around his boyfriend, sniffling loudly into his arm.

 "Did I, did I make you cry?"

 Luhan nods stubbornly. 

 "I'm sorry."

 Luhan moves his head up a little bit so his eyes show, looking up at guilty eyes. Sehun's rubbing circles on Luhan's wrist again, sometimes trailing off to toy with the bracelet on his wrist. "You're so sweet, I don't deserve this much." Luhan mutters, snuggling in closer to both his scarf and Sehun. "You really do like taking photographs."

 "I liked taking photos of you," Sehun admits honestly. "You just looked so happy when you weren't forcing yourself, or at ease and I wanted...I wanted to show you that." His eyes flickers to the opened photo album of him and Luhan's selcas and more portraits of the latter. "Photography is my subclass so..."

 Luhan whines, moving up to give Sehun pick. "Oh stop, stop. You're being so sweet and it's so much for me." He taps his fingers against Sehun's touch. "The scarf and gloves you gave me are really soft, too."

 "You better wear it." Sehun looks away. "I don't want you getting sick this winter. I heard it's worse this year, the weather."

 "Probably."

 "Do you like it?" Sehun asks in a hushed voice, stroking Luhan's back again fondly. "I know it's no Cartier bracelet hyung."

 "Oh, be quiet." Luhan murmurs, drying his eyes. "I haven't gotten a gift like this. It means a lot to me, even this," he points to the sticky note that's still stuck on his forehead, prying a loud laugh out of Sehun. "I love it all so much."

 For the rest of the morning after Luhan washed himself up, they're eating breakfast over the coffee table, turning their phones to radios playing English Christmas songs because they're a lot merrier. Luhan's sporting the scarf whereas Sehun's decked nicely in the blue sweater, lips kissing hot cocoa. 

 "Oh God, I look so ugly here, when did you take this?"

 "No you don't. You look like you're enjoying yourself."  
   
"What about this one?"

 "That was, I think...oh. It was when you were eating tteokbokki and freaking over the hotness of it."

 Luhan sets up their living room with all the pillows he manages to snatch all around the apartment, creating a mini fort for the two of them to snuggle their hearts out. He's making another set of cocoa when Sehun quietly leaves a 'Merry Christmas, mom' voice mail. He has left a lot of voice mails. 

 Giving him a back hug puts him back at ease, leaning back into Luhan's touch for the rest of the morning. 

 "I have work in two days," Luhan pouts. "When do you start working again?" he nudges Sehun with his foot, offering him a handful of almonds from his stash.

 "Jinki-hyung himself wants a long break, so in three days." Sehun calculates. "He just wants to stay home longer away from us. Especially Ten, that boy clings onto our manager like a leech."

 "Your workplace sounds fun," Luhan says thoughtfully, remembering the carefree, light atmosphere whenever he stopped by.

 "It is," Sehun agrees. "Jinki-hyung treats us all like his little brothers. It's...really nice. It's really good for all of us."

 Luhan nods in understanding, pressing his head closer to Sehun's ribs, sighing in contempt. "We should walk around Seoul later. Later though, because I'm pretty comfortable here being chill with you."

 "Me too," Sehun ruffles up his hair, it's only slightly damp. "It feels a lot slower when we're just lazing around at home. I like it." 

 "It's nice, isn't it?" 

   


➳➳➳

 

   
   
The new scarf comes in handy when it comes to shielding Luhan from harsh winds. "Are you sure you don't want to take the car? It's better for your immune system, and I'd be more at ease." Sehun frowns slightly, looking around at people who are hurrying into nearby stores at the sales display. "A car ride through Seoul is pretty nice."

 "No," Luhan disagrees. "It's Christmas, Sehunnie. We should window shop and take more photos. You know, Christmas things." There's some fresh snow that Luhan has the unfortunate pleasure of dirtying. Luhan looks down at himself shyly, adjusting his bright scarf with his white gloves. There are finally some colors in his wardrobe and his life. 

 The ache in his lower body lessens, Luhan clasping his hands together, beaming. There's so many people on the streets, the cracks unseen with shuffling heels and boots, most definitely hidden under all the snow. Sehun keeps a nice hold on his hyung, fiddling with the sleeves of his jacket as they walk down the street. "Lu, you know I crave for your attention like crazy, right?" Sehun fits his big hand over Luhan's like a blanket. "Like a lovesick teenage girl."

 "Are you a lovesick teenage girl?" Luhan asks mockingly. 

 "You give me a lot of attention," Sehun continues, looking down at Luhan and he sees a few snowflakes on his cheeks. They melt quickly on his skin. "Sometimes, I'm not used to it—because I wasn't raise like that."

 "I got a lot of attention," Luhan murmurs. The bad kinds, but he got it. "I can give you all my attention."

 The mild, playful expression of Sehun drops. "Thank you. I like your attention," he pauses, "am I too clingy?"

 "No," Luhan shakes his head reaching up to pull out of Sehun's hair out of the way. It droops forward again, anyways. Luhan's sure this is sort of charm of is. "I like it. I like it a lot."

 They're walking a little further down the street, idly passing crowded shops and cafes like 스타벅스 인사점. Sehun points at the coffee house, motioning towards the hot chocolate. "Do you want any to warm up?"

 Luhan shakes his head, groaning. "I think I drank half a gallon of hot chocolate this morning." 

 Sehun smiles, and it's one of the more bright things in the streets, he thinks, even more so than the street lights and the electric sign with a Christmas display wishes. "You really are a chocolate-hyung." Nuzzling noses has always been a form of intimacy between them; especially when both of theirs are cold from the brisk weather and Sehun feels extra sweet. Leaning in with the smell of pine and mint, Luhan sinks in closer, lips brushing along with their noses.

 "Oh my..."

 "That's a boy, right? He's pretty...but he's with another boy—,"

 Lips still planted on each other, with no tongue or further contact. Sehun, quick on his feet and mind, cups his palms like he did last night, blocking out sounds from both sides. Again, and again. The first time had been in a grocery store hurrying on their tired feet to get back home. The second out of haste and the need to block out the bad things. And he had ignored it all, afraid to bring it up. 

 Luhan doesn't want stay quiet. Not anymore. 

 Luhan pulls away, face contorted with hurt and his lips quivering so badly that Sehun's face collapses like failed construction. Cheeks hued with pink and nose beet red from the cold, Luhan tries to manage a manageable and loud sentence with his shaky hands. "What are...what are you doing?" 

 "I..."

 "You covered my ears again." Luhan shakes, only partially from the cold. He tugs on the scarf further, to cover half his face so Sehun doesn't see how pained his expression is. "This is the third time you've done that."

 Sehun averts his eyes away from Luhan, down at his sneakers that needs to be tied. "You're counting?" Luhan, chest constricted with all his layers and pressed rib cages. People are staring.

  _you're a freAK._

_  Leave me the fuck alone. _

 Luhan loops his arm through Sehun's quickly, pulling him away behind the coffee house, mustering all his strength to pull someone clearly stronger and healthier than him. It's a rash decision, hasty and all things Luhan were brought up not to be. There's a dumpster but it has been emptied recently, with swatches of spray paint on the beaten up bricked walls behind them, Luhan staring at Sehun with turmoil and conflict—but it's mostly guilt. 

 "You cover my ears when they say bad things, don't you?" Luhan asks quietly, but he doesn't have to. The strained expression on Sehun's handsome and chiseled features speaks for themselves; eyes empty of tears but the sorrow's there.

 "I didn't want you to hear them," Sehun says, and it's so inaudible that Luhan thought he heard it in his head. "It was hard in Daegu, hearing all that. And I didn't want it to scare you off like—like how it did to me; drove me off." Sehun chuckles, but it sounds so awful that Luhan wants to hold him tightly. 

 "So you wanted to go through all that again?" Luhan stops shaking. "By yourself?"

 Sehun, bewildered and borderline panicked eyes, he hugs his arm silently. 

 Luhan sees a scratch mark of the boy who's just as equally sad under all that mild friendliness and patience. Stepping forward, slow and giving Sehun a chance to back away. But he doesn't, and the taller one slumps against Luhan awkwardly, despite their height difference. 

 "I love you," he croaks, and Sehun grips a death hold on Luhan's hem. "I want to go through every hardship and fun with you. I want to do everything with you so let's start with the bad things, so we can end with the good things."

 "Hyung..." Sehun's voice is so broken, and both their stories start to unwind. "It hurts so bad, it...." Shuddering.

 A spark; a flame of fairy tales with bad beginnings. 

 "It's alright, Sehun-ah," Luhan cards his gloved hand through Sehun's hair, and none of them care that they're in an alleyway and open to all eyes. "Don't cover my ears anymore. Don't suffer alone anymore."

   


➳➳➳

   
 "It's 2016 now."

 "It is, on this calendar, right?"

 "Do you have any New Year's resolutions, hyung?"

 Hesitate. "To be true to myself. To be good to you."

   


➳➳➳

Sometimes, stressful nights has Sehun yelling. Not usually towards Luhan, because he locks himself in the room whenever he's irritated, sad, or just tired.

 "Sehun."

 "I'll be out in a bit."

 "Sehun-ah."

 This time, Sehun's slumped in the bathroom, locking it and all is quiet. "I don't want my bad mood to rub off you," his words usually gets softer with each halt. It sounds like he's crying, or just beating himself up. 

 "Please don't lock yourself in there," Luhan says with a plea. 

 "I got that letter from that place," he speaks up, words wavering just slightly. "The dance stuff. Hotshots and big name studios. The kinds you go see  _Dion Quixote_ , or  _Le Sacre de Printemps_  at." Luhan, with his ear pressed against the door can hear crumpling paper. He assumes it's the letter. 

 "Isn't that a good thing?" Luhan asks carefully, trying to pull on the handle again. "You're a great dancer. You looked alive, so alive on the stage."

 Sehun coughs into his sleeve or something, it's muffled. "No—I mean, yes. Yes, it's a good thing. But it gets so competitive and everything elevates. And...it's not a stable future for me. I can have a stable future with my major but I can't have a degree with pointes and dance costumes."

 "You're wrong." Luhan stops trying to jiggle the door handle. It's cold outside and Luhan hasn't changed out of his tie and pants, briefcase tossed on the floor next to him. He had come to Sehun's dance bag still in their bedroom, the bathroom locked. "Nothing is stable. Your major is just as stable as your dance." His voice hitches, because it sounds like he's outside of his body and watching a boy with the same problems talk to his lover with his. 

 "But..."

 "Don't live for your brother anymore," Luhan blurts out, calm and collected. "Your lawyer brother or whatever. Don't try to chase for stability that he doesn't have, either." Sehun keeps coughing, and he thinks it's to hide the fact he's choking up. "You want to become a dancer, then be one. Stability or not, that's not important. I'll be here for you, okay? I'll be here when you come out, I'll be there when you're on the stage or wherever you choose to be."

 These are the words Luhan wished he had heard 13 years ago as a 12 year old.

 Luhan does stay there; an hour later, Sehun finally opens the bathroom door. Slouched against the hallway wall, he's snoring slightly with his tie jumbled up in his lap. 

 Sehun carries him off to bed, murmuring  _I love you's_ and  _thank you's_. 

 

   


➳➳➳

 The first week of January seems just like any winter they had. They both wake up too early or just at the right time, but no matter what, they end up talking lazily in bed for at least half an hour. Curling their fingers into the mattress when the others hair tickles their throat when it comes to nuzzling and all things cute.

 Sometimes, they talk about what to have for dinner, if they should eat out or make something out of their fridge. But those were short lived conversations when Luhan turns to flip himself onto Sehun's stomach, grinning on top of him through early-risen eyes. The notion leads to Sehun playing with everything on Luhan's face—tugging at his ears gently, brushing across his lips or squishing his cheeks together. Luhan lets him do all that. 

 Laughing and rolling around in bed had its time, though, the two scrambling off for the bathroom when it ends.

 Work is...work isn't different. Luhan still gets there earlier than most with a drink in hand and two more for his friends—he has started getting Seulgi tea from the shop, too. He rarely bumps into Yesung or Sungmin, but when he does, they're quick to clear their throat and excuse themselves.

 But that's okay. 

 Kyungsoo and Chanyeol still smile at him like before, and it's so calming these days. 

 "The three of us should all have dinner soon. My place, maybe next week or something." Kyungsoo says, when they're packing up and trying to drive the ache away from their shoulders. He looks at Chanyeol and offers a curl of his lips. "You should invite Seulgi. And bring Sehunnie, hyung." When he looks at Luhan, he smiles even brighter. 

 "That would be nice," they both agree, Chanyeol slightly pink at the ears at the mention of Seulgi. 

 Going home feels a lot more good. It was always good, Luhan thinks, but now, he doesn't have to worry about which takeout menu he should look through, or if there's enough wine to get him to sleep. There's the absence of the voices, it's actually rare to hear them nowadays. 

 "We should go for breakfast," Luhan says, when Sehun's washing the dishes because it's his turn tonight. "Tomorrow, I mean. Jongdae has a western, sort of American-style breakfast menu on Saturdays. You know those pancakes and bacon in that movie we watched a while ago?" 

 "Yeah, I remember." Sehun says, wiping his hands on the drying towel before running them through his own hair, smiling. He's always smiling. "You said the pancakes looked good."

 "They are good," Luhan informs. "Let's eat them tomorrow. They're sweet with that sticky stuff they put on it. You'll like it." 

 "I'll take your word for it."

 The rest of the night is spent with Sehun wiggling Luhan's reading glasses off him when he dozes at his laptop. Playing _Nell_  and  _Puer Kim_ , because they've finally found music they both like. Sehun's still trying to get Luhan into  _Lim Kim_  by stuffing his earphones into Luhan's ears whenever he's working. Luhan gets back at him by replacing his iPod with his, a play list of jazzy Chinese singers.

 Sehun doesn't mind whatever music Luhan plays, as long as he's lost in lips that aren't too cracked nowadays, lip balm lathered on to keep the skin cool. And Luhan particularly finds it nice to work away with 기억을 걷는 시간 playing, because Nell has grown on him ever since he saw Sehun so happy with their albums in his hand.

 "I don't need to wear a scarf today," Luhan protests, pointing outside. "It's a lot nicer today, especially for January! Don't strangle me with that." He glares at the scarf and hat in Sehun's hands, huffing out. "I get so stuffy."

 Sehun grins. "I know you do. But I'm going to wear one, too. Because if I get sick, you might, too." There's not much room for Luhan to put in another word with Sehun holding his wrist and tapping his bracelet. He gives in. He always gives in.

 "I'm going to drive," Luhan declares, snatching his car keys off the table cluttered with mails they haven't opened today. "Bring your music stuff, we should give it a listen in the car. 

 Ducking quickly into the elevator, Luhan secretly doesn't mind how the folded red scarf is around his neck. 

 The music fills their car, along with the heated seats and Sehun peering over to see if Luhan's buckled. "I'm not a kid," Luhan states flatly, but his chest swells again. "I'm a grown man."

 "I like caring for someone," Sehun argues. "Maybe I just like to dote and coddle grown men like you."

 Nell has great alternate music, but Luhan likes the smile on Sehun's face more than their Newton's Apple album. 

 "We're preparing for a dance again, in August," Sehun says, underneath all that humming. "It's a long way away, but it's going to be a big production. It's going to be A Midnight Summer's Dream. Have you heard of it?"

 "Yeah," Luhan says. "I think Yixing was in that dance for high school." He remembers Yixing staying up late over Luhan's house, the two of them practicing their pronunciation so Yixing can impress his seniors. "He played the part of Puck."

 "I'm going to be really stressed out about it," Sehun admits.

 "I know, I'll help you in anyway I can."

 "I might yell."

 "You should yell."

 "I might be tired after practice."

 "I love you," Luhan says, blunt around the edges but the message is clear. "I'm friends with a lot dancers. My boyfriend, is a dancer. I know the stress levels." He takes a turn because there's always a shortcut to Jongdae's restaurant. 

 "Are you going to buy me a lot of candy and junk food for me, then?" Sehun bats his lashes, and it looks so off for such a sharp face like his that Luhan laughs. 

 "Absolutely not. I'm keeping you healthy—no more drinking!"

 It's crowded on Saturdays at the restaurant, because there's not a lot of places nearby with tasty American breakfasts; Jongdae makes the best, especially with the recipes his now-American-citizen sister sends over. "Oh wow, and I thought it was busy on weekdays," Sehun says, looking around at the kids and elderly tearing off pieces of fluffy pancakes. "Jongin's working his shift today, too."

 "Uh huh," Luhan makes a beeline to the front, where Jongin is busy toying with his apron to notice until Sehun leans over to flicks him on the ear. 

 "Oh, hyung!" Jongin beams, rubbing at his ear ruefully. "And Sehohoho," he sticks his tongue out teasingly, Sehun grinning and threatening to pull his other ear, too. 

 "Christmas has passed," Sehun says, standing closer to Luhan. "Come up with something new, Jonginnie."

 "I'm not creative."

 "We know."

 Luhan looks around, it's really loud today. "Hey, where's Jongdae?" Luhan asks, looking over Jongin but sees none of the ramyun-hair man. 

 Jongin sticks his thumb behind him, towards the break room. He slips away from behind the counter to stand next to them, slinging an arm around Sehun, the latter kicking his shin but lets his friend do his thing. "I think someone came in with him, check on them for me, too? Jongdae-hyung looked kind of jittery earlier." 

 Luhan nods, glancing over at Sehun. "I'll be right back, and Jongin," he nudges the boy with his foot gently. "Don't smother Sehunnie."

 Jongin shouts something that suspiciously sounds like ' _no promises'._ Luhan chuckles, not looking back to know that Sehun's jabbing the boy where it's sensitive at his sides. Luhan wants to pester Jongdae about healthy alternatives and easy meals, because he most definitely intends to keep his word in keeping Sehun healthy. 

 "Jongdae-ah!" Luhan doesn't bother to knock, walking in and waving at Jongdae. "Does noona have any healthy food recipes—,"

 His arms drop to his sides limply. 

 In a sway of fliers, things are exactly where they should be. The streak of hanger grease on the wall, because Jongin is klutz when he's not on a polished stage. The fan that whirls consistently is of the norm, and so is the lockers with naked ladies plastered on their locker door, signaling out the bachelors. 

 Minseok, with his sweatshirt, Manchester United in bright print. He fits there, too. 

 Football did his muscles good, his skin a bit tanner than he remembers and it's obvious how calloused and rough his palms are. His face, everything from the neck and up seems nearly the same, and it's scary how Luhan can probably map out his features again. Baby cheeks and mono-lids, he remembers them all with a tremor.

 Maybe it's weird, it should be weird. Someone who left 7 years ago shouldn't look the same. They shouldn't fit in again perfectly—they're suppose to be foreign, unrecognizable and lost. 

 But he doesn't...he doesn't at all. He seems to fit exactly into the setting, next to Jongdae with a bag Luhan remembered he carried around high school; a little worn down but it's the same. It should be weird, an alien sight to see someone that hasn't been here in years in a room that Luhan's second home. 

 Minseok blends in perfectly, pretty eyes that never died. Minseok is there, sitting on the couch that Luhan's sure he has kissed Minseok on a few times.

 Jongdae turns towards Luhan, and the moles on his neck and forehead are more prominent when he pales, eyes widen. 

 Because 7 years wasn't enough. 

 Minseok had always been the fastest out of all of them; high stamina proven through sticky breaths in the boy's bathroom. It's no surprise that he has the fastest reaction, too. 

   
  _"Luhan, just imagine. You. Me. The two of us playing for Manchester United."_

_"In your dreams!"_

_"Yeah. It is my dream. We're going to do the things we love."_

 

 He thinks he murmurs something about coming back later. Or maybe he doesn't say anything at all. How many steps does it take to stumble out of the break room, or should he be counting the number of times Jongdae shouts his name and the seconds it takes to gasps when he hears Minseok's voice again after so long? 

 "Luhan!"

 Luhan's the second fastest, established in a rookie game of football in the late night park runs. 

 Staggering outside of EXODUS, he realizes he left his scarf with Sehun. It's only a little bit cold. He left everything with Sehun, actually, the car keys included. They were suppose to have breakfast together, and Luhan feels a guilty under all the lightheadedness. Darting quick through the crowd lively and vivacious sorts, Luhan pretends he doesn't hear Sehun shouting for him. 

 Barging into the nearest store, he gets a weird look from a mother who's holding their toddler by the chubby fist.

 He knew, they all knew Minseok was going to come back. With medals and the nickname _'Xiumin'_ to boast to his friends about. To try out his pretty English out on Kris and get praise. Luhan just didn't plan ahead on what he'd do.

 Luhan looks around wearily, noticing he had stabled into a pastry shop. He should get a dozen of pastries for Sehun, he'll like these. Planting himself down in one of the booths, he tries to warm his hands by rubbing them together, ceasing the shaking, too. Recollecting his messy thoughts, Luhan sighs irritatingly, recalling his reactions and his friends' faces. 

 "I'm a coward," he whispers, masking his chilled face with his hands. "That's..."

 "Just a bit."

 Luhan looks up abruptly, pulling his hands away to see a clearly winded Sehun, hands faltering at his own chest to steady himself. He underhandedly tosses the scarf and keys to Luhan, who fumbles but catches them. "You're quick," Luhan says weakly. "I was pretty fast in high school, that's good. You're fast, I mean. You can catch up to me."

 "Hyung."

 "I was a lot of things in high school," he continues, eyeing the decor on the wall. "I think you would've have recognized me. I was so different."

 Sehun takes a step towards Luhan, pulling at his arm, bemused and wary. His hands were just as freezing, so he takes the both of them absentmindedly, rubbing them together under his hands. "Why did you run off like that? Did something happen with you and Jongdae-hyung?" Luhan scoots aside to make room for Sehun on the seat.

 "No," Luhan replies easily, because it wasn't Jongdae. "I'm sorry we didn't get to have our pancakes, I hope you like pastries so we can..."

 "You're so pale right now." Sehun sounds...almost exasperated. Upset, even. 

 "We can buy a few dozens for you. I know you have to be healthy but you really like sweets so just a bit." Luhan continues, and he sounds as he's going to cry. "I'll go order some right now."

 "Stop," Sehun says sharply, and Luhan flinches. "Stop doing this to yourself." Sehun snatches up Luhan's hands again, which are trembling so bad that he almost doesn't notice the marks he's leaving again. "Stop hurting yourself."

 "I'm sorry," Luhan says brokenly. This softens up his features, the hard line around his mouth fading and his brows are slated down. Rubbing soothing touches onto Luhan's palms, he calms him down. "For everything."

 "Why did you run out of the restaurant?"

 "Did you see?"

 "What?"

 Luhan leans in closer to Sehun, to rest the top of his head on the taller one's chest. He can't really hear his heartbeat like this, but he likes knowing that Sehun's made out of flesh and bones, because he's real, then. 

 "Did you see the person next to Jongdae-ah?" Sehun's sweater is itchy, rough against Luhan's forehead. "My height, almost. He was wearing a black bag and has really squishy cheeks. Did you see him?"

 "He was calling you," Sehun says. "He's the one with the big eyes and sweatshirt?"

 "Yeah." Everything Luhan says sounds like sandpaper. "Did he follow you?"

 Sehun pulls Luhan up, face chased with too many questions, most of which Luhan can't find the heart to answer. "I...I think Jongdae was holding him back. Who is he?" There's some SNSD music playing off in the background. "You look scared of him,  _I hate that_. It's bothering me so much. Was he someone that hurt you?" 

 "You're so cute, Sehunnie." Luhan say, voice worn down by the swing of early morning and daub of yesterdays. "It was more like I hurt him."   
   
 There's some things Luhan doesn't forget. Like the time he got his first F because he was too busy fidgeting about the phone call from China in his 2nd year of high school. Branded with a no-name iron, he most definitely doesn't forget the coffee shop owner's grandson. 

 "We were infatuated in high school," Luhan's voice leaks out of rusty pipes. "I'm a bad person, Sehun." He thinks he should order some bakeries or pastries here, so he motions for one of the workers, hiding the lip quiver under a folded scarf. 

 When Luhan struggles to order a Danish for both of them, he tries to pretend he doesn't see the way Sehun's face fell, eyes dilated and unsecured. 

 "I thought you didn't come out until recently."

 "I didn't, I came out with you." Luhan says, swallowing back a lump in his throat. He has been feeling a lot of those lately. "His name is Minseok. And I couldn't say we dated, because, we never called it anything. I never called him anything besides hyung and Minseok. I couldn't label anything we did together." Minseok was a diary for him. It just took 7 years for him to show someone the pages inked with blood and sodded with dirt.

  _You are the page I longed to turn._

 He doesn't want Sehun to say anything; to misunderstand and leave before Luhan can finish. Sehun's too busy curling in his fingers until his knuckles turn white. All Luhan can do is grab his hands like he did to him, smoothing out his flesh until he relaxes. 

 "The world's no place for freeloaders," Luhan continues, when the waiter comes back with plates of Danish sweets. "I learned that the hard way." There's three speakers in this conversation; he's the lone speaker with 15 year old Luhan perched on the table looking thin and ragged, and to Sehun who looks like he's willing to break. "Please listen to me, Sehun. Don't misunderstand me."

 "Do you still love him?" Sehun asks quietly. "You look so scared and vulnerable. He has to mean a lot to you to make you shake like that." There's bitterness, just a bit. There's anxiety, most of all. 

 "You make me shake like that," Luhan says, and that has Sehun go mute again. "I don't love him anymore. I didn't...I mean, I did. But it was a different kind of love. The kind that was in the place of absent affections I never got." Minseok was good at those kind of things. Kissing him hotly on the mouth and telling him he's a good person. But they're both lying, because good people don't kiss other people with the intention of forgetting and silent revenge.

 And somewhere along the lines of staying in the library much later than they should, teaching him Korean and the basic ethics of survival, Luhan falls in love. Or, rather, in love with the idea that someone with such a good future and life could love someone like Luhan; whose Korean was poor enough that the two communicated more often with smashed lips and tongue than conversations.

 That was their kind of love. 

 "I mistook it. No, I  _misused_  it." Luhan says, trying to find understanding in Sehun's eyes. It was there all along. "And Minseok. I ended up hurting him. I'm a bad person." Luhan tries to push the plate of pastries towards Sehun. They're going to miss breakfast, but he doesn't want him hungry. 

 "You're not a bad person," Sehun says roughly, clearing his throat and his eyes are windows to his inner turmoil. "We're suppose to hurt in love." When he blinks, a low slower and deliberate, Luhan sees how young Sehun is. Sehun has always been young, he just never acted it out. He looks so young and insecure that Luhan heart soars out to hold him and tell him that he loves him. 

 "I love you," Luhan shuts his eyes so all he can see is red. "I've learned. I'm learning. I won't mistake you. I won't misuse you. I'm not going to...I won't be a bad person. I'll be good."

 "You don't have to promise me things like that," Sehun says. "I like you the way you are now. One thing you do won't turn you to clouds and rainstorms. Don't change for me."

 "People change, Sehun." Luhan cuts a piece off the large bread and urges Sehun to open his mouth. "Some for money and some for face. We're both going to change but I'm going to do it for you, because I don't need money or face anymore." Luhan cracks a smile, and it's sort of genuine under all that stress. "I am changed, actually. I'm a lot sappier, and I'm lot more touchy."

 There's four missed calls from Jongdae. 

 "What are you going to do about him?" Sehun makes Luhan eat some, too. "Minseok-ssi, I mean."

 Luhan shrugs halfheartedly, though the weight is off his chest, it's clinging to his ankles like leeches. "I'm not sure if I can face him. You don't know how terrible his expression was." It was an expression that was so disappointing in all the right places and enough to scare a teenager out of love for a long time. "You're...going to stay with me, right? I just, I just really need to hear your voice right now."

 "We'll talk about everything."

 They do. Luhan tells him the unneeded story of a boy who denied love.  
 

 


	3. And He Laughs; Finally

It's Wednesday when Luhan gets a phone call during his break.

 Excusing himself from his conversation with Kyungsoo, he steps outside with an unfamiliar number. "Hello?" Luhan asks, and he's in the hallway while everyone else in the break room. 

 "Your voice changed a lot. It's a lot less pitchy and you don't sound like you're crying all the time."

 Luhan's throat constricts, and he finds the next few words coming out of his mouth and bouncing off his tongue like rocks. "I never sounded like I was crying." He has to switch ears to keep his hand from dropping the phone. Luhan never had anything less than shaky hands. Maybe that's why he played football so passionately. Or perhaps Minseok was his reason. "You...you still sound the same."

 "I sound different when I'm speaking English," Minseok tries to say, but an off putting strain was there, even under all the light and air of his words. "My teammates like my English."

 "You were always the best in our class," Luhan winces. Don't go back into your memories. "How...how did you get my number?" 

 "My bad. You still sound still pitchy and ready to cry." When Minseok laughs, Luhan wants to curl away and become nothing again. The idea of familiarity and traditions seems to scream at him, clawing at him with the chains forged by his own regret and bad choices. "Your friend did. A really tall boy with blonde-ish whitish hair? He chased me down and pestered me. I thought he was a fan at first."

 "So full of yourself," Luhan whispers, but it's so torn that none of them notice. "And he did? I'm going to have to—," he doesn't finish, because he chokes on his words and ends up coughing and coughing until his throat begged him to stop. He had the audacity to push his phone away, but he can still hear Minseok worryingly asking if he was okay. "He did...didn't he."

 Minseok goes quiet for a little bit, but Luhan expects it. Because as loud and sure Minseok was—is, he hesitated often enough to have conversations with himself before getting back to someone. "You ran away when I saw you at Jongdae's." He says, and Luhan remembers. "That boy was there, too. He was following you."

 "He's always with me," Luhan says, unyielding. His insides starts to unwind like old tapes his aunt has, strewn all around him and he's not bothering to pick them up. "What did he say?"

 "Have coffee with me." Minseok says. "No, wait. No, he didn't ask me that. But he told me to...tell you that. And we have to talk. You also gave me a shitty 'welcome back to Korea!' welcome."

 "I thought you hated me." Luhan's still convinced he does. 

 "My grandmother's coffee shop? Whenever you get off work." Minseok chuckles into the phone. It still sounds the same. "You really did become some top-notch editor. Don't think I never noticed your nose in the school's newspaper every morning."

 "I wish you didn't notice everything," he replies, pained. "And okay. I'll be there."

 "Thank you, by the way."

  The world doesn't take kindly to the rhythms of modern times. He wonders if it can take his unsettling quick heart rate. "For what?" 

 "I know you were a better grandson to my grandmother," Minseok sounds a little nervous. In a different light and in different times, Luhan would've laughed at someone who was so cocky on TV and good with his cleats and jersey, to tease him for being so anxious. "She tells me that you see her everyday. That you take care of her...all these years..."

 "It was the least I could do." Luhan doesn't think he's alone in the hallway. Sun Wei's stuck to the wall lights but Luhan ignores him. "Coffee, then."

 "Yeah, coffee."

 When work ends, Luhan pulls Sehun's number on his phone. "Hello?"

 "Hey, Sehunnie." Luhan greets him warmly, even though everything else is chilled to boneless presences. "I'll be late today. You have practice again tonight?"

 "Yeah, I do." Sehun says brightly. "Ten and Jaehyun are over in the apartment, is that okay? Luhan hears Jaehyun giggling in the back with Ten whining. "We were going to hang out in the park but it got too cold and dark."

 Luhan smiles. "It's our home. You don't need permission." Luhan pauses. "Tell Ten and Jaehyun I said hi."

 Sehun shouts over at them to shut up and sends Luhan's greeting to them. Luhan can hear shouts of hyung! in the back. "You sound kind of distressed." Sehun's quieter, and Luhan loses himself in all of Sehun's words again. "Are you okay? Did something happen at work? Did Yesung and that other little shit—,"

 "No, no." Luhan clears up quickly. "It's just the streets. I'm outside." Luhan glances around, soaking in all the lights. "I'll leave you to your friends. I'll be back later."

 "Okay." Sehun waits for a little bit. "I love you, hyung."

 "I love you, too."

 Luhan takes all the longer routes to the coffee shop. But he still ends up parked in the streets, the sight in the window all too nostalgic. He sits in the car for awhile, the engine turned off so it's just him and the blatant cold. 

 Luhan learns that Minseok hasn't had time to grow up. That kicking the ball around the field in front of small faces in the stadium hasn't left a lot of room for him to change. A small part of Luhan feels relieved, because most people don't change for the better. And he doesn't admit to himself it's a reassuring sight to see Minseok still chomp on gum obnoxiously with headphones tight around his neck; he still looks like a high schooler.

 Yes, that's what it is. Luhan has grown up and Minseok was living his dream.

 Mustering up all that is left of fleeting courage, he steps out of the car, careful and apprehensive steps to the coffee shop that has been a safe haven for him. Minseok looks up, and he looks like he just got caught up in headlights. "Hi." He nods slowly, eyeing the suit he's in and almost smiles ruefully. "Halmoni is working up the kitchen in the back," he nods towards the back, "this place didn't change. I expected more modern furnishing, especially with you caring for her." He beams up at him.

 Luhan shakes his head. Talking to Minseok feels like talking to a stranger on the subway that he has run into nearly all his life. "The vintage-feeling of this place is its charm." Luhan sets his stuff down, the chair scraping across the floor when he pulls it out, feeling wobbly. "It's the only place I can go to for peace."

 Minseok looks a lot smaller, with a clump of gum in between his teeth. But his eyes has aged, and Luhan's not sure how he feels about it. "Me too. In England it was a nearby Korean BBQ restaurant. But it wasn't...it wasn't the same." Luhan nods solemnly. "It's not easy to find soju there," Minseok grins, clinging onto the backdrop of Seoul. 

 "You're back where you started," Luhan offers silently. "For a few months. That's enough to lose yourself in soju and kimchi again, right?"

 He laughs, and when he does, his headphones shake with him. "I called in for a break. Step out of the light for a bit."

 "Living your dream is hard, isn't it?" Luhan thinks it's too quiet in the cafe. Maybe he'll talk ahjumma into playing  _Nell_ and  _10cm_  around the place. 

 Minseok's still smiling, but it's wan and willing to drop any moment now. Luhan misses him. The kissing...the touching and the love confessions are of the past, because he has plenty of that right now. But he misses, no, he longs for that friend in Minseok again. The kind that sits by him and is equally sad because they both knew there was no point in trying to stop negative emotions. 

 "Your Korean sounds nearly fluent." 

 "I had a lot of time."

 Luhan still has Minseok's Korean textbooks somewhere in a box down in his storage room. One day, he'll ask him if he wants them back. 

 "The kid that came to me," Minseok toys with the salt shaker, doing everything so they don't have to look at each other. "He seems to care a lot about you."

 "He's not a kid," Luhan says. "His name is Oh Sehun."

 Minseok gives him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, he's not a kid." He tugs on his earlobe, which has a faint pierced hole that hasn't seen an earring in awhile. "I met a lot of new people. Jongin, Chanyeol, Taemin and Tao. I hear Yixing has a set of dance students. Well, I didn't hear. He just emails me photos of his dance studio and snaps photos of his dancers. Oh Sehun is one of them, isn't he?"

 Luhan nods, and he relaxes into his chair. It feels...nice. It feels normal again, talking to Minseok light and care-freely. "We could talk about you and Man U. That's what I'm suppose to do right?" Luhan flinches at his own words. "I'm not going to be selfish."

 "I will," Minseok says. He doesn't look like a high schooler anymore. "You could. Or you can watch my interviews or search me up on Daum."

 "I haven't been able to do that."

 "Jongdae says everything has been well for you," Minseok says, and he looks sincere. "I'm glad. I'm really happy."

 Luhan curls his fingers in his knees. He shuts his eyes for a moment, staring at the wooden table. "Things seem well for you, too."

   
  _"I'm going. I'm really going to go big and play football, Luhan."_

_"Okay."_

_"You're happy, right? We're going together, we have to."_

_"That's...not how things work."_

   
 Minseok pulls off his headphones, the wire nearly tangling with his hoodie string. He sets it next to the worn bag he got as a gift from Joonmyun on his 17th birthday. "I know why you did what you did." He struggles out of his hoodie. Underneath it, he's wearing a blue shirt that looks almost like their old high school uniform; just the color. Luhan wants to run away again. "You were trying to make things well for me."

 "Minseok," Luhan begs him, voice sharp and an uncanny resemblance to a knife. "I don't think I can..."

 

  _"I don't love you."_

_"Luhan..."_

_"This is...this is disgusting. You're disgusting, I'm disgusting. What we have isn't love, it's shit."_

 

 Minseok shakes his head, too quickly but firm. "But I can." Minseok rakes a hand through his hair that's dyed a soft chestnut color. "I spent a long time despising you. I cursed at you on the plane ride to England. But I was...I was mostly sad. A slap in the face."

 Luhan recoils. 

 "I deserve to be despised," Luhan says, itching to etch more marks in his palms. But he doesn't, sitting on his hands instead but he promised a tall blond boy that he won't do such things anymore.

 "No you don't." Minseok looks at him sadly, some sort of wistfulness to it, too. The two can hear ahjumma's loud humming in the back kitchen. "2008."

 "...Huh?"

 "That's when I left for the that college scholarship. I spent a year hating you. I spent a year trying forget everything you've done and every touch." Luhan thinks his eyes are too bright for this room. "2011, I got scouted."

 "I remember," Luhan croaks. He was around 21 turning 22, and his life was complete shit during then. "It was all over the internet."

 "Do you know what they told me, right when I got scouted?" Minseok looks like he plays with fire. "One of the players."

    
  _"Then what were we? What the fuck were we all through high school?"_

_"A mistake, Minseok. We were a mistake."_

 

 Luhan looks weary, afraid to hear the next few words that he had killed himself to prevent Minseok from hearing. "What did they tell you?"

 "There's stereotypes of us. Of Asia. Because of our entertainment industry and shit, they think we're all gay." When Minseok grins, it's wolfish and terrifying heartbreaking. No. "They made me get a girlfriend. They thought I was gay because of our culture. I am. I am...gay. But 2011, I stopped hating you. I couldn't hate you."   
   
 Luhan breaks down. The weak shoulders that spent too many of precious years carrying a weight that wasn't meant for him starts to shake. Minseok's chair nearly topples over when he stands up too quickly, his chair scraping along the floor. 

 

  _"You don't mean that."_

_"Yes I do—fuck, don't touch me! Don't ever fucking touch me, Minseok, I swear to God if you touch me. I'm not gay."_

 

 Minseok grips Luhan's shoulders, trying to snap him out of it.  "Please don't cry, Luhan. I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." He's crying too, but Luhan thinks it's for different reasons.

 Burnt out stars seems to take a toll on Luhan, the tie like a noose around his neck and all is dead. "Your face when I did that to you...it fucking," Luhan's panicking again, pushing his chair away from Minseok in a haste, scared all over again. "It's  _stapled to me_. It haunts me."

 Crestfallen, Minseok wraps his own arms around himself, cold. "You wanted me to go to that college," he whispers, his voice cracking and he stops chewing his gum. "And all I could do was hate you...I hate it. I hate myself." Minseok throws his head back, collapsing back onto his chair. "You didn't deserve that."

 "Ttch," Luhan sniffles, wiping furiously at his eyes. "Grown men don't cry. I've grown up...I've grown..." Luhan stops talking. He has grown up. His shoe size changed, his taste in coffee differs now and he doesn't have to worry about voice cracks when talking to crushes. But ultimately, he's not swinging his legs on the edge of everything, waiting for something to swoop down and take him to bed. 

 "You were selfless," Minseok spits the gum into his wrapper and stuff it into his pocket. "You're a good person," he continues, almost apologetically. "I'm sorry, Luhan. I put you through all that when you just wanted to get me to my dream—,"

 Luhan never did like seeing Minseok cry, because whenever he did, it was comically hideous. "It wasn't selfless." He offers a wry smile. His eyes aren't as wet now, but he knows they're just as red-rimmed as Minseok's. "You're getting tears in your coffee." He tries to laugh, but ends up coughing. "Why are you even drinking coffee at this hour?"

 

  _"There's a going-away party for Minseok, Lu-hyung, we should go and meet his football friends!"_

_"I'm going to stay home, I don't feel well."_

 

 Minseok sniffles. "I plan to binge watch my soap operas tonight."

 Luhan pulls out wads of tissues from his bag, and Minseok nearly scoffs. "You act like Joonmyun. Kind of dress like him too. What's next, old man, you have a stereo in your bag, too?"

 "I'm younger than you," Luhan says, dabbing the area surrounding his delicate eyes. "You're the oldest out of all of us."

 Ahjumma's still singing loudly to her old indie music, cracking a smile out of both of them. "How have you been doing these past few years?" Minseok asks awkwardly, clearing his throat. 

 "I'm an editor. I...I had a girlfriend." Minseok raises his brows. "I broke up with her. Because...because I can't love her. Then I met someone again." Walking into that weirdly modern bubble tea shop will go down on his time line as one of his best decisions. "He's good to me. I came out to a lot of people." Minseok takes a sharp and breathy intake, eyes like fish, wide and incredulous. 

 "I think I know who this someone is," Minseok muses, puffing out his cheeks like whenever he had an idea or some unearthly theory. "It's that boy who chased me down, isn't it? Sehun?"

 Luhan smile shifts into a softer one around the edges. "Yeah." He likes Sehun's smiles because his eyes disappear into moon crescents when he does. He likes the way he teases and laugh, clasping his hands together. "I love him."

 Minseok's face softens, somewhat daze but mostly relieved. "I'm jealous..." he says, brightening up. "You're light years ahead of me. You're always going to be ahead of me." Wistful. 

 "Does football make you unhappy?" Luhan asks, voice just low enough so that Minseok knows he means it. 

 "No, it distracts me." Minseok admits honestly. "There's so many people I've been in the past 7 years, and I want to love them. Like we did, you know? Almost carefree. But football," he falters, and he looks so small. "You're not allowed to play on the field and still fuck guys."

 Luhan recoils. 

 "Could you drop it? If you had the choice?"

 Minseok hesitates. "No. It sounds bad, me saying no. But that's why we are where we are now. Me living a really shitty dream that offers only fame and girls—except, I don't want girls. I'm jealous of you. Because you have someone to fall back on, on that Sehun boy. That's where we are. I'm in a dream and you're ahead of me."

 "Minseok..."

 "It's going to change," Minseok says quickly. "Everything. America has it legalized. People are going to accept. I just have to...wait. Yeah, I just have to wait." Minseok pauses for a moment, as if trying to get a bunch of words together. "But you, you shouldn't wait. Ever. Okay?"

 "I don't plan to anymore."

 Minseok leans back, and a bit of his hair peeks out. "You're going to keep loving. You're going to love Sehun and you're not going to turn to girls to hide behind them anymore, right? Promise me that."

 "I promise," Luhan chokes. 

 "I'm a hypocrite," Minseok laughs dryly. "I have some girlfriend back in England." Luhan reaches out to Minseok, giving him a squeeze and saying  _it's okay._ "I don't like her. She smells like cheap perfume and her boobs are tedious when she kisses me."

 "How blunt."

 Minseok grins boyishly. "When things change, I'm going to make out with so many guys. Because they don't taste like MAC lipstick." Luhan snorts. "Thanks for the love we had. I think...I think I'm ready to let you go."

 Luhan's ready, too. 

 "Don't date that girl in England if it hurts you." Luhan says softly, and Minseok freezes. "I've done it before. It...It feels like shit."

 Minseok taps his feet against the table legs, eyes nervous and paranoid. "I've done much worse." 

 "I want to introduce you to Sehun," Luhan says, tightening the scarf around his neck. It smells like pine because Sehun has sprayed it with his cologne, Luhan loves it so much. "He makes really good bubble tea, too."

 Minseok nods, and winks. "Careful, I might flirt with him if he's cute. And by the looks of what I've seen—,"

 Luhan makes a face and kicks him under the table. 

  _Yes_ , Luhan has finally let go of everything.

➳➳➳

"You're not going home for Seollal?"

 "This is home."  
 

➳➳➳

 "It'll be quick," Luhan reassures him. Sehun looks around when they step out of the car. "I just have to pick something up." It's early March, and Sehun has his Spring semester in two days. Luhan managed to convince Sehun to stay at the apartment instead of going through the hassle of reapplying for the dorm procedure, with a lot chocolate and kisses. Tao had whine about having to find his a third roommate.

 They haven't come out to the rest of their friends. Though, it's no big secret. It's just that no one has mentioned it. 

 "What is this place?" Sehun asks, when they get a blast of warmth walking into the office. 

 "My doctor's office," Luhan says breezily. "It won't take long. I just need to pick a few things up and then we can go see that movie."

 "Okay," Sehun agrees, pulling Luhan in for a chaste kiss. It gets easier. "I'll be in the waiting room."

 Luhan glances back endearingly at the awkward sight of Sehun cramped in one of the seats meant for average height. 

 He hopes Ryeowook won't mind seeing him out of the blue and willingly for the first time. The front desk only looks at him warily, but rather hopeful, too. 

 "I wasn't expecting anyone right n—Luhan?" Dr. Ryeowook stands up, sharp cheekbones and jaw hanging. Ryeowook got a haircut, Luhan notice, and his cheeks has a bit more fat to them now. "Oh, I most definitely wasn't expecting you." Ryeowook scratches the back of his head sheepishly. "Sorry, I was in the middle of organizing."

 "It's my bad," Luhan says apologetically. "I should've called or schedule something. Do you have a moment?"

 "Well..." Ryeowook takes Luhan in from head to toe, eyes noticeably widening by how much healthier he looks. "Yes, of course." He ushers Luhan to sit down, but he smiles, shaking his head in decline. 

 "I just want to pick something up," Luhan says shyly. "I don't have much time, I can't keep my boyfriend waiting."

 Ryeowook violently coughs into his arm, excusing himself in between fits of weird noises. "You, oh wow. You progressed." Ryeowook looks...excited? He advances towards Luhan, eyes bright and lips curled up in a smile. "Oh my God, you've really progressed. Oh, oh my God!" he wraps his lanky arms around Luhan, yelping.

 "How...professional," Luhan wheezes. Ryeowook gives death-gripping hugs. "Dr. Ryeowook."

 "Oops." He doesn't sound sorry. 

 Luhan adjusts his scarf again while beaming at his doctor, the man who has looked over him protectively for so many years. "You helped, a lot. Even if I could never really admit it." Luhan shuffles his feet. "Kind of like a brother. The weird kind of brother."

 "Thanks, Luhan."

 Luhan shakes his head, chuckling. "In the nicest way. But really, could...could you do me a favor?"

 "Yes...?"

 "That green binder." Luhan nods towards the gray file cabinet behind Ryeowook. "With my medical information. My notes. Everything. Could I...could I get a copy?"

 Ryeowook frowns. "I'm not sure if I can..."

 "Please," Luhan's face falls desperately. "It's my own records, and I already know what's inside. I just need it. For closure." He rubs his hands together for that puppy effect. "Just this once, Ryeowook-hyung."

 At that, Ryeowook snorts unattractively. "Don't go around throwing hyung around."

 Luhan manages to leave with all the copies in a separate binder. "Sorry about that, Sehunnie." They interlock hands and hurries towards the car. "We're not going to be late to the movies, right?"

 "Nope," Sehun ruffles up the back of Luhan's neck. Scowling, Luhan kicks his ankle. "We still have twenty minutes." Sehun looks down at Luhan's clothes, grinning fondly before bending a bit to give a kiss that's a lot longer.

 Neither of them cares who's staring, because kissing in the early March cold feels just right, a suggestive tongue that sweeps along his lips and leaves him in shivers. "You're wearing my Hongik sweatshirt, it's cute on you. Even if you went to Yonsei." Luhan looks down, the sweatshirt a bit too big on him and flops over his hands. "A traitor to Yonsei, now?"

 "Shut up," Luhan says. "My Yonsei sweater is pretty cool, too. I just can't find it."

 "Spirited, hyung."

 When they get into the car parked in front of the clinic, Luhan doesn't hesitate to throw his legs over Sehun's lap, encasing his thighs. "I love you." Luhan presses his slightly chilled lips to Sehun's, who wraps his arms around him protectively. "Twenty minutes before the movie, right?"

 "Mhm," Sehun murmurs against his mouth, dipping a tongue in as his hands work up and down Luhan's spine, having it arched towards him. 

 "Ten minutes of kissing, then."

 "Fifteen."

 "We're not going to get to the theaters in five minutes, Sehun." Luhan deadpans, running his hands through Sehun's hair after tossing his hat aside, having it slump against the binder of medical papers. "I like this color on you, have I told you that?"

 "You have," Sehun nips on Luhan's lower lip, tugging on it as the latter plays with his hoodie strings. "I'm starting to think you only love me for my blond hair."

 "Hmm, maybe." Luhan cups the sides of Sehun's jaw lovingly, fingers brushing on smooth kiss as they continue to press hot mouths together. The car engine isn't even on, but neither of them feel the cold with each others body heat. 

➳➳➳

“Luhan—what am I going to do?” Sehun moans, slamming his head onto the desk. Luhan scowls, smacking him on the shoulder. 

“Stop slamming your fucking head on the table.” Luhan takes a look at the desk. “You're going to make a dent in it.”

It's 2 AM on a Thursday night—morning? Who knows. Luhan, yawning and kicking his feet up on the bed and Sehun all jittery from his fourth cup of coffee. Luhan's sure he would've been on his tenth had he not put his foot down and kick him out of the kitchen. “I hate this. Hyung, I hate this.”

“Been there,” Luhan pouts. “Done that.” Luhan scoots a bit closer into Sehun, wrapping his tiny arms around him and giving him a squeeze. Sehun sighs, relaxing back into Luhan's touch. “You're going to be fine. I've checked your grades. My boyfriend is sexy and smart.”

“You check on my grades?” Sehun asks, amused. 

“Of course I do.” Luhan pushes up his reading glasses, ruffling up his own hair before diving back into the comfort of his own chair. “I also email your professors.”

“Stop, Lu,” Sehun whines, thrashing his arms around in embarrassment. “Oh God, why do you do that?”

“I'm just worried!” Luhan says defensively. “I've told you. I'm going to support you academically and dance-wise.” He swirls around his tea; he too, has given up on coffee. That isn't to say he doesn't stop by the coffee shop, giving ahjumma a kiss and ruffling up Minseok's hair. 

“You sound like a parent.”

“No,” Luhan stands up, setting his tea cup on the table next to all of Sehun's neat notes. He swoops down to kiss Sehun's forehead, lingering a bit to brush across his hairline. “I just love you. After the tests, I'm going to take you around Seoul again, part two.”

Sehun grins sleepily, and he looks like a puppy. “Thanks, Lu.”

“Now go to sleep. Let's both sleep.”

➳➳➳

 Sehun's birthday is April 12th. Luhan's is the 20th. 

 On the 12th, they go to Namsan, despite tired legs and whines. They do all the good things, take more pictures and eat hot food. They find their strawberry lock, nostalgia smashing against the two of them like a tidal wave. On the 12th, Sehun's officially 22, and Luhan wants to be there with him for his 23rd, 24th, and a lot more, if Sehun lets him. 

 There's a small get-together at Jongdae's restaurant on the 16th, because they wanted to celebrate their birthdays somewhere in the middle. It's a cute idea, the kind that makes Luhan blush and Sehun proud. 

 Minseok's there, too, chatting up a storm in ripped jeans and a few streaks of red in his hair because he can. Sehun and Minseok have gotten along strangely, and Luhan even makes threats he'll kick Minseok's ass if he takes his boyfriend away. He's only sort of joking, though. 

 Sort of. 

 There's cake, a lot of beer that Luhan tries to prevent Sehun from drinking. Hyunjae brings flowers, and she finally starts to smile at Luhan again. Her hair is shorter, and Joonmyun loves it. Jaehyun and Ten are flowing along nicely with the younger bunch, even impressing Kris with his conversational English. 

 No one says anything when Sehun pulls Luhan into a steamy kiss when they blow out the candles that signal their age of 26 and 22 metaphorically. They all assumed, anyways. 

 Minseok hoots like he's at a football stadium when they pull apart, grinning. Luhan flushes, hiding his red face into Sehun's sweater. Sehun chuckles, winking towards his dance friends and at an excited Yixing. 

 Minseok looks a lot livelier nowadays. He's leaving soon, and they're all sad about that. He absorbs it all up again, the coffee shop, Luhan's friendship, and a lot of soju. He promised Luhan he won't keep hiding in his dream that's preventing him from loving. Luhan wonders how it's going to be for him, when he opens up to that promise. “We're here for you,” Jongdae had reminded him. Minseok crying was a rarity and a tragedy.

 "So long have you guys been together?" Tao asks teasingly, fluttering his flashes so irritatingly that Sehun has half a mind to clip them off. "I bet Jongin 10,000 won they've been fucking since they met in like, September."

Kyungsoo makes a fake gagging sound. “I don't want to see my friend; my coworker, mind you, that I see everyday, naked with his ass getting—,” Minseok barks a lively laughter, hooking his arm around Kyungsoo and Joonmyun. 

“Oh. That is a weird image.” Kris mutters, burying his face into his hands. “Take it away, oh God.”

 "Five months," Luhan flicks Tao's nose, who yelps and scowls as he rubs his nose. "Give 10,000 to Jonginnie." He turns to Sehun, who has his arm around his waist fittingly and hiding his face in the crook of Luhan's neck. "Right, Sehunnie? Five months?"

 "I wish we were fucking since September," Sehun pouts into his flesh. "But you didn't get with me until like, a few months later. You kept me waiting."

 Jongdae scrunches up his face. "I don't need to visualize the image of my two friends fucking." His curly perm is gone, back to its natural black again. Tao and Yixing are hoarding most of the cake, Hyunjae scolding them as they try to stuff a piece into their mouths.

 "Don't. Don't visualize Luhan fucking, hyung." Sehun sticks a tongue out playfully. "Only I can." Luhan's cheeks burn at that, swatting his cheek lightly and burying his face in his own sleeves.  
“My Sehun from another star,” Baekhyun says sarcastically.

 "Oh, shut up." 

 Jaehyun snorts, kicking his feet up on the table. "You think this is bad? Try Sehun gushing about Luhan every single damn day." Jaehyun changes his pitch to sound like Sehun, but he ends up sounding nasally and in need of shutting up. "Oh my god, he's really nice. Jaehyun, don't you think he's nice? He's friends with Tao, oh my gosh, he looked really fucking hot in that sweater. Jaehyun, don't you think so? Jaehyun! I got his number!" 

 "I did not do that." 

 Ten shakes his head. "I can confirm that everything Jaehyun said is 110% accurate."

➳➳➳

 

_May 3, 2016._

_NESTER Group, CEO Li Sun Wei faces charges for rape cases of 22 year-old woman Mei Xiu and19 year-old Lien Hua._

_May 19, 2016._

_NESTER Group vulnerable to attack from other companies; HuKi Group breaks through and takes the spotlight._

 

➳➳➳

When Sehun's off to school, Luhan has the whole apartment to himself for an hour. That gives him 60 minutes, 3,600 seconds to dump all his capsules and hidden cigarette stash in the back of his medicine cabinet. He uses a box from the storage room, small but sturdy. 

 There's duloxetine, Luhan's least favorite because it felt numb after taking it. There's follow up papers, when it doesn't work so the dosage just kept piling up and up, until they switched it out after seeing him shake. Bupropion was something he only took for a few weeks, until he kept throwing up and didn't touch even his favorite food. Bad things, these were the bad things. 

 He never did consider himself a smoker. Was he, after only a few sticks outside, eyes too bleary to set the match right? No, he never did it for the feeling, the kind of relief that came with cancer. A crushed up case of Marlboro's because he needed a statement, because bad kids smoke and he was a bad kid; just no one believed the depressed boy that heard voices was bad. Just pitiful. 

 He has kept every liquor store receipt, only some are missing from his stash because he crumples it up on bad nights. Clasped with a paper clip, he sets it near the corner of the box, comfortably tucked in the clutter of orange pill bottles labeled with things he can barely pronounce. 

  _I don't need these anymore._  

 The box is big enough for the binder, embed with his name along with years' worth of confession letters Ryeowook kept and notes, like—  _Luhan, June 7, 2009. His insomnia has worsen. He keeps calling the voice in his head, 'he'.Luhan, March 18, 2012. He looks less thin. Act on food plan for him._

 It fits. It fits so perfectly in a box of all the shit he has put up that he nearly suffocates on nothing. 

 Closing the lid is satisfying. Writing all over the box in Chinese, however, is what has him collapse against the bathroom tiles, eyes drowsy until Sehun comes home to coddle him. 

我恢复。 _I am recovering._  
 

➳➳➳

   
 __

June 3, 2016.

NESTER Group goes into bankruptcy.

➳➳➳

   
Luhan receives another email from his father. Something about him being 26 now, and he should stop playing around in Korea. He knows his father is only emailing him because his precious nephew is going to hell in the business world and society in general. 

 He tells him he's not playing around in Korea. That he has settled down with someone he loves. 

   
 

➳➳➳

__

June 27, 2016.

Former CEO Li Sun Wei commits suicide due to tension.

 

➳➳➳

   
 "You're going to be fine," Luhan tells him for the fourth time. Sehun's been jittery all morning, nearly spilling the coffee all over his skin had Luhan not catch the mug in time. "It's in five days, right? Sehun, you're a natural."

 "But this is a really big production." Sehun argues, chewing on his sweatshirt string anxiously. He's going to regret that later, Luhan knows, because he ends up complaining that his strings look tattered. "The one you saw was just...just a small one." 

 "You're going to spill your coffee again." Luhan eyes the cup in Sehun's hand warily as he pours both of them a bowl of cereal because none of them have the energy to cook something filling. "Let's not drink something that you can drop and burn your hands, again." 

 It's August, ironically fitting for the Midsummer Night's Dream play. Sehun's not the only one stressed. Taemin, Jongin, the other dancers and Yixing are all freaking out. Yixing has typed too many exclamation marks into one message in the group chat and it's wearing Kris down. "But hyung!"

 "You'll make a sexy Puck," Luhan says flatly, nudging his bowl of cereal towards him. "Eat up, Pucky boy." Sehun stares at his cereal like it's the Holy Grail, and Luhan winces. "Your dance skills are amazing. If they weren't, a company wouldn't be eyeing you like a hawk right now. You'll be fine, okay? I've been here the entire time with you."

 Sehun nods hesitantly, motioning at his cheek for Luhan to kiss. He scoffs, but he leans in anyway. It's Sunday and the air conditioner is their savior, the weird buzzing sound that accompanies the heat has grown on them. 

 "Should we do it again?"  
   
 Sehun's feeding Luhan a spoonful of cereal absentmindedly, the gesture so common they sometimes forget they do it. "Do what, hyung?"

 "What I did for you last time before your dance. Take you away to some place. Relax. Unravel. Calm your shit down and stuff." Luhan takes the coffee away from Sehun because it's dangerously close to the edge of the table and it's making him age. 

 "Where would we go?" Sehun asks dreamily, rubbing at his eyes like a puppy. Or cat. Sehun's most definitely a cat. 

 Luhan's mind lingers back to the black box he has shoved behind his closet. "Outside of the city. Maybe somewhere with the ocean. For a day or two."

 "What about your work?"

 "I'll take my vacation days." Luhan says easily. "I need it, too. We both need to detoxify. This Seoul air sometime clogs me up."

 "Is that really okay—,"

 "Just take enough clothes for today and tomorrow morning. Just stuff it in a string bag or something." Luhan stands up, startling Sehun. "You can't perform well on stage if you're stressed out like this. We're going to loosen you up, okay?"

 They pack. Just the right clothes, like light summer shirts and faded jeans. They do stuff it in a string bag, and Sehun looks questionably at the box Luhan's hauling out from their closet. "I'll tell you about this later," he says quietly, holding it tightly against his chest. "These are just my bad memories. Detoxifying, remember?"

 

➳➳➳

The black box's marred with a few scratches and its faded color speaks of a hue that was once dark and brand new.  Luhan lets Sehun drive, because his hands are trembling, though they shouldn't, not anymore. Sehun was never one to let anyone drive if he had a say in it, though.  
   
 His breath isn't still visible in the car—but he pretends he can see the air shake around him as he exhales. Somewhere in between the rough start of the engine and Sehun tightening Luhan's collar, he leans over the older one and pulls over his seat belt; Sehun's hot breath pulling Luhan away from memories he doesn't like to think about.   
   
 With one hand on the wheel, Sehun's clutching onto Luhan's free hand, rubbing circles on soft flesh, and Luhan feels at ease again.    
   
 In the black box, there's a whole galaxy that screams at him, Luhan shuts his eyes and slumps against the seat. They're driving out of Seoul. Away from artificial lights and skies that bears no stars. Sehun says he thinks they'll see stars where they're going. Their own Midsummer Night's Dream. Just, modern.   
   
 "It's going to be a long ride," Luhan whispers, eyelids heavy from those late night wine glass and over thinking everything. "Let's tell stories."   
   
 The highway that fades into the suburbs are paved with the story of lawyer brothers, fists, and bruises. They're littered with brief mentions of the childhood bedroom in Beijing and balconies on July nights. Often times when they turn on route 6, there's the telling of dancers and broken hearts; woven with a boy whose doctor father couldn't fix his heart. Sometimes, their tragedies make great bedtime stories.   
   
 They're leaving; and Luhan knows they'll come back, tonight or tomorrow. He doesn't really know. But Luhan knows for certain, they're coming back as two, two lovers, two friends, two men who are really boys under the hardened gaze of the world.    
   
 And the black box with a whole mess of pills and crumpled up medical bills, and piled under all that—Sun Wei. It's a box that won't come back with them, left behind under a whole scroll of visible skies.    
   
  _They're coming back_ , they're coming back, when it's night and they can race the streetlights again.    
   
  _I'm sorry._  
   
  Luhan doesn’t hear the voices anymore.  

  __

Fin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohMY GOD IT'S FINALLY OVER I TOOK FOREVER TO CROSS-POST THIS.
> 
> Thank you for reading this, it's lengthy, isn't it?
> 
> There is no destination to recovery. It's a process that doesn't promise you a gold and silver ending, but you'll smile. You'll laugh again, and you will find a reason to live. Recovery is not about the end of the pain, it's about who you are at the end of the day.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you if you've gotten this far! All places mentioned except for the bubble tea shop and Luhan's work place are real. They're beautiful places and I am happy I got to incorporated them in this writing.
> 
> (Disclaimer. I wrote this last year when I was fourteen. Looking back, I've realized that my writing changed quite a lot in between writing projects. I realize I made grammar mistakes that need to be fixed. I'm glad I'm able to say that I've improved, but I'm grateful that people were able to enjoy Sidewalk Cracks despite it being a mess I wrote when I was just out of middle school. If I had the chance, I would rewrite it. Thank you for reading.)


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